Two In One (Harry Potter Percy Jackson Crossover)
by ivymchang
Summary: Ivy Willows is a normal girl; well, as normal as a witch can get. But she discovers she's not even a normal witch as another part of her wakes up. Ivy Willows has to play two parts in two totally different worlds. Two In One by Ivy Chang Harry Potter and Percy Jackson Crossover *Updates: Every few weeks* Thanks for reading! :D Rated T (just in case! :D)
1. Chapter 1: Chocolate Frogs Are Life

CHAPTER 1

 **You're Not Touching The Chocolate Frogs On My Watch!**

"Come on, just a little further," I huffed, tiptoeing to push with all my might. All the effort was for naught, though, as my trunk fell from the ledge once again with a deafening thud. Liakáda, my white and gold Exotic Shorthair, meowed. Glaring at the shelf above the seats, a.k.a. my goal at that moment, I moaned in frustration before gripping the handle on the side to prepare for another go.

"Excuse me."

I let out a startled squeak before turning to the compartment door. A boy with black hair and emerald eyes stared at me nervously.

"Could I share this compartment with you?" he asked, awkwardly fidgeting from side to side.

I beamed. "Of course! No problem at all!"

The boy smiled in relief before dragging his trunk in, placing it on the shelf above his seat, and sitting down quietly. Liakáda made his way into the boy's lap. The boy awkwardly looked at him. On the other hand, I continued struggling, trying to push my trunk onto the shelf. A quiet cough rang out in the compartment.

"Do you need some help with that?" the boy asked.

"Thank goodness!" I said in relief. He picked my kitten up, setting him to the side before standing and helping me push the heavy trunk into the overhead shelf. I sighed with satisfaction when it was finally in place, and we both sat down across from each other, close to the window. I grabbed Liakáda and sat him in my lap. The train started to move, gaining speed after a few seconds. Houses flashed past the windows, blurry images contorted by the train's speed.

"Thanks for the help," I said, smiling. "I'm Ivy Willows. I'm actually from America, so in addition to it being my first year staying in England, it's going to be my first year at Hogwarts, too."

"I'm Harry Potter, first year as well," he said.

My mouth dropped. "Harry Potter?!"

"Yeah, that's my name," Harry said jokingly.

"W-what? I can't believe - "

"Um, do you have room for one more? Everywhere else is full," a voice asked.

Harry and I turned to the speaker, a redheaded boy. I nodded and the boy sat down next to me. I smiled brightly before turning to him. "Hi, I'm Ivy Willows. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm Ron Weasley," he said quietly, blushing under my gaze. I noticed him glance at Harry before turning away as if he hadn't looked. The compartment door opened again. Two redheaded twins stood in the doorway.

"Hey, Ron. Listen, we're going down the middle of the train - Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," Ron mumbled.

"Harry," said one of the twins, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother."

The other twin turned to me, grinning. "Hi there. Who're you?"

"Ivy Willows," I said, smiling. "First year."

"Well, we've got to go. See you later, then," they said simultaneously.

"Bye," Harry, Ron, and I said. The twins turned to leave, closing the compartment door behind them.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted.

"Yeah," Harry replied.

"Oh. Well, I thought it might've been one of Fred and George's jokes," Ron said. "And have you really got the - you know..."

He pointed to Harry's forehead.

"Yeah," Harry said, lifting his bangs to reveal the lightning shaped scar on his forehead. It looked really cool, but a bit daunting.

I spoke. "So that's where You - Know - Who..."

"Yes," Harry said. "But I can't remember it."

"Nothing?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Just a green flash of light, but that's it."

"Wow," I breathed. An awkward silence engulfed the compartment. Ron was glancing at Harry again. It seemed Harry had noticed, too. I petted Liakáda's head as he purred in content.

"Are both of your families all wizards?" Harry asked in interest. I shook my head.

"My mum is a witch, but I'm not sure about my dad or his side of the family. He left when I was little."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear," Harry said.

"Yeah, it's okay, but thanks." I smiled. "My mum's side of the family are all wizards and witches. What about you, Ron?"

"Er - yes, I think so," he said. "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you guys must know loads of magic already," Harry said.

"No, I haven't learned a single spell or charm or anything. I'm completely new," Ron admitted.

"I've read and memorized most of the spells in our books, but I haven't practiced them yet," I said.

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What're they like?"

"Horrible," Harry said. "Well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers."

"Five," Ron said gloomily. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left - Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached into his jacket and pulled out a grey lump.

"I-Is that the rat?" I asked, slightly grossed out.

Ron nodded. "You're lucky you've got that kitten. What's its name?"

"Liakáda," I said. "My mum got him for my birthday in April. What about your rat?"

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless; he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff - I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

Ron's ears went pink, and he got very quiet. I didn't see what was wrong. There was no shame in being unable to afford an owl.

"Don't worry about it, Ron. Look, we can share my kitten!" I joked. "Liakáda is totally fine with that!"

Liakáda meowed, looking up at me with his big eyes.

Harry spoke up. "There's no shame in not being able to afford things. I had no money until a month ago. I had to borrow all of Dudley's old clothes and never got proper birthday presents."

As Harry went on, Ron seemed to cheer up.

"... and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort."

Ron and I gasped.

"Y-you said his name," I said, shocked and impressed at the same time. "I'd have thought that you, of all people..."

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name," said Harry. "I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn... I bet," he added, sounding worried, "I bet I'm the worst in the class."

"You won't be," I said in a, hopefully, comforting voice. "There are a lot of students from Muggle families who didn't know about magic until they got their letters, too. They catch on quickly. I'm sure you will, too."

We settled into a comfortable silence. I watched out the window, noting how we were passing many fields full of cows and sheeps. At around 12:30 PM, a clattering noise sounded outside the compartment door before it slid open, revealing a smiling, dimpled woman. "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Harry instantly jumped up, and I followed suit after putting Liakáda on the seat. I was starved; I hadn't eaten much for breakfast because I was so darn excited about going to Hogwarts. Ron stayed seated, muttering that he had brought sandwiches. We walked out into the corridor.

"There's so much!" Harry exclaimed in wonder. "What do I get?"

I held up my black pouch full with Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts.

"I'm going to buy a little bit of everything! Mum doesn't let me eat too much candy, so I'm taking advantage of this opportunity!" I said, grinning widely.

Harry laughed. "I'll do the same, too! I've never had wizard candy before."

We both bought some of everything, arms full a few seconds later. I paid her eleven Sickles and seven Knuts. Ron stared at us when we walked back into the compartment, dumping all the food down on the seats. I took a seat, and Liakáda crawled into my lap.

"Hungry, are you?"

"Starving," Harry and I both said. Harry took a bite out of a pumpkin pasty, as I watched Ron unwrap a lumpy package that revealed four sandwiches. He pulled one apart before saying, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

"I'll trade you a sandwich for a pasty," I said, smiling.

"You don't want one of these," Ron said quickly. "They're all dry. Mum doesn't have much time - you know, with the five of us."

"Just take one, Ron!" I jokingly demanded. He grabbed it gratefully. "Thanks."

I stood on the seats and grabbed Liakáda's cat treats from my trunk. After sitting down and feeding Liakáda some treats, I proceeded to grab a treat for myself. We spent the next few minutes just pigging out. I was eating a Cauldron Cake when Harry spoke up.

"What are these?" he asked, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They aren't actual frogs, are they?"

I laughed. "Nope, they're enchanted chocolate frogs. Check the card, though. That's what you really want."

Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. "So this is Dumbledore!"

"You've never heard of Dumbledore? He's only the greatest wizard of all time!" I exclaimed. I grabbed one of the Chocolate Frogs from the pile. (I had an extremely large sweet tooth - especially for chocolate!) "I'm still looking for Circe."

I unwrapped the Chocolate Frog, taking a giant bite. "Mmm, it's so good! Chocolate is my favorite!"

Ron and Harry laughed at the dreamy look on my face.

"You're in love!" Harry teased. I threw the Chocolate Frog card (Godric Gryffindor) at his face, laughing.

Ron grabbed a Chocolate Frog as Harry looked down at his card of Dumbledore. "He's gone!"

"Well, you can't expect him to stay around all day," Ron said. "Oh, I've gotten Morgana again. I've got six of her already. Do any of you want it? You can start collecting?"

"I've already got her, but thanks anyway," I said. I noticed him staring at the rest of the Chocolate Frogs, just waiting to be opened.

I sighed. "You can have half of them. You're lucky I'm being nice," I said in mock anger.

Ron nodded happily before grabbing another Chocolate Frog. Harry was still staring at his card.

"In the Muggle world, people stay put in photos," he said.

"Do they really?" Ron asked. "Weird!"

Harry looked at me. "You aren't surprised. Were you raised in a Muggle area in America?"

I nodded. "Yup, I lived in Manhattan. It's, like, 'Muggle Central.' Lots and lots of Muggles."

Harry reached over to the other side of the seat to grab a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"You'll want to be careful with those. When they say every flavor, they mean it. George reckons he had a booger-flavored one time," Ron warned.

I took a brown one, looking at it cautiously before taking a small bite.

"Yum, cinnamon!" I said in relief.

Ron picked up a green one, biting into the corner. "Bleh - I got sprouts."

We spent the next ten minutes trying all the beans we dared to taste. I got chocolate, coffee, strawberry, potato, blueberry (yuck!), olive, ham, dirt, and green apple. It was fun to watch Harry and Ron scrunch their faces in disgust when they got a disgusting flavor like sardine.

There was a knock on the compartment door and it opened, revealing a teary round-faced boy about our age.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

We shook our heads, and he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"I'm sure you'll find him soon," I said.

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him, could you tell me?"

We nodded, and he left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

Scabbers was asleep on Ron's lap.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..."

He opened his trunk, pushed a few things aside, and pulled out a battered-looking wand. The wood was missing a few chunks in certain places, and the top was so worn, some of the core was sticking out.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway -"

He was just about to cast the spell when the door opened again. It was the boy with the missing toad, but there was another addition to his lone self. The girl with bushy hair, large teeth, and a slightly snobbish tone spoke.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one."

"We already told him we hadn't seen it," Ron said. The girl wasn't listening, though. Her eyes were trained on Ron's wand.

"Oh, are you doing magic?" she asked. "Let's see it, then."

"Er - all right."

He cleared his throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow." He waved his wand, but nothing happened to Scabbers. He was the same greyish tone that he was before.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course. I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learned all our course books by heart, of course. I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. Who are you?"

I didn't hear half of what she was saying. She spoke really quickly. Ron and Harry's faces were stunned, too, though it might've been because of the fact that she learned all the books by heart.

"I'm Ivy Willows," I said, giving her a smile.

"I'm Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter."

"Are you really?" she said, a little surprised. "I've read all about you. I got a few extra books for background reading and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Am I?" said Harry, looking a bit dazed.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You three had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

Then she left, taking the toad boy with her.

"Whatever house she's in, I hope I'm not in it, too," Ron said.

"Maybe we'll get to be friends with Hermione soon. After all, you've got to know a person to judge them," I said.

"Yeah, yeah." Ron tossed his wand back into his trunk. "Stupid spell. George gave it to me; bet he knew it was a dud."

"Are your brothers in Gryffindor?" I asked with interest. Ron nodded.

"Which house do you want to be in? I've always thought Gryffindor or Ravenclaw would be nice."

"I want Gryffindor." Ron said. "All of my family has been in Gryffindor. Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad. I can't even imagine what my mum would do if they put me in Slytherin."

"That's the house Vol- I mean, You-Know-Who was in, right?" Harry asked.

"Yup," I said. Ron sighed, looking gloomy.

"Here, Ron, have another Cauldron Cake." I was hoping that he would cheer up and forget about the houses.

"Yeah, here, eat some more chocolate frogs," Harry said, catching on to what I was doing.

"Thanks, guys," Ron said, pulling a half-smile.

"So what do your brothers do now that they've left, anyway?" asked Harry.

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," Ron said.

"Oh!" I exclaimed. "Did you guys hear about the break in at Gringotts the other day? It's all over Daily Prophet."

"Really? What happened?" Harry asked.

"Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it," Ron said, looking excited.

We became quiet. I started thinking of You-Know-Who. Who knew what was going through his head? Why did he do what he did?

"What's your Quidditch team?" Ron asked.

"Sweetwater All-Stars are definitely the best!" I exclaimed.

"You Americans and your Quidditch teams," Ron muttered, rolling his eyes jokingly.

"What's Quidditch?" Harry asked.

"What?!" I shouted, making Ron and Harry jump. "You don't know what it is? It's only the greatest sport ever!"

I explained the whole game: the four balls, positions, rules, and the playing field. Ron and I took turns saying which games we'd been to, our favorite players, and which broomsticks we wanted. Suddenly, the compartment door slid open.

There were three boys, two large ones on both sides of the pale blonde boy in the middle.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry. I stared at the pale boy before shifting my gaze to the two thick boys behind him. I noticed Harry and Ron do the same.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," the boy said carelessly. "My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron let out a cough to cover his snicker. Draco Malfoy looked at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

I narrowed my eyes at him, glaring with all my might, hoping to set his hair on fire or something. Maybe he noticed the glare or felt the intensity of it, but he then turned to me. His eyebrows quirked up when he saw me giving him an icy look. A smirk formed on his face.

"You're cute," he said. "What's your name?"

"None of your business," I shot back.

"Oh, American, are you? I'm fond of American accents."

"Yeah? Well, I'm not fond of you, so go away."

His smirk grew, but he said no more to me and turned to Harry.

"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand. Harry didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," Harry said coolly.

Draco didn't necessarily turn red, but a light pink dusted his cheeks.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Ron, Harry, and I stood.

"Say that again," Ron growled, face as red as his hair.

"You going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered.

"We will if you don't get out," I snapped, taking a step toward him.

"Right with you on that one, Ivy," Harry said, also moving up.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some," Draco said, eyeing the piles of candy that were on the seats.

Goyle reached out for some Chocolate Frogs next to me.

"Not on my watch!" I shouted as I lunged to hit Goyle, but before I could even touch him, Goyle let out a girly shriek.

Scabbers had sunk his teeth into Goyle's knuckle, hanging on for dear life as Goyle shook his hand, screaming and yelling. Draco and Crabbe did nothing to help him, only back away. Goyle flung his hand around and around, and Scabbers went flying straight into the window. The three boys upped and left, and Hermione Granger decided to come right after they left.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"I think he's been knocked out," Ron said to Harry and I. "Oh, wait, no - I don't believe it! He's gone back to sleep!"

"You've met Malfoy before?" I asked.

Harry explained their meeting in Diagon Alley.

"I've heard of their family. They were the first to come back to our side when You-Know-Who disappeared," I said, looking at Ron and Harry.

"Yeah, they claimed they had been bewitched. But Dad reckons they'd switch right back with You-Know-Who if he ever came back," Ron said, eyes wide. He turned to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?"

"You should put on your robes. I went to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. Have you been fighting? You'll be in trouble before we even get to Hogwarts!"

"Scabbers has been fighting, not us," Ron said, scowling at her. "Would you mind leaving while we changed?"

"All right - I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," said Hermione, sticking her nose in the air in disapproval.  
"And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

Ron glared at her as she left. I looked out the window. The sky was a dark purple, almost the black that I knew night to be so well. I could feel that the train was slower than before.

Harry and Ron took off their jackets, slipping on their robes. It wasn't awkward because we were slipping on robes over our clothes. Oh no, the awkwardness came from us facing away from each other, trying to put on the robes in the small compartment space.

"Oof, sorry, Ron, was that your foot?" I said when I stepped back onto something moving but firm.

"Yeah, it's okay. Oh, sorry, Harry, did I elbow you?"

"No worries. It's fine."

A few minutes later, we were done. I was still brushing out my black locks with a white hair brush, Ron was rubbing the dirt smudge on his nose, and Harry was trying to flatten his messy hair.

A voice echoed through the train. "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately."

I felt the butterflies in my stomach flutter violently. I could see Ron turning pale, and Harry's face a bit nervous. We grabbed all of our remaining candy (I tried to grab all of the Chocolate Frogs left) and shoved them into our pockets before joining the throng of students in the corridor.

The train slowed down and then stopped. Everyone shoved their way off the train onto the little platform. A chill was in the air, and I shivered, grabbing Harry's hand for warmth. He looked at me.

"Uh, just so I won't lose you," I said, giving him a timid smile.

He didn't say anything, but he didn't let go, either. Ron looked at us, confused. A light came bobbing toward us, and a booming voice sounded, stopping in front of us to reveal a person I hadn't seen in a long time.

""Firs' years! Firs' years over here! Alright there, Harry? Oh, Ivy! Nice to see yeh!"

"Hagrid!" I exclaimed, giving him a hug.

"How's yer mum doin'? You hadn't come to visit in a long time, so I thought somethin' was up," he said, grinning.  
"Mum's doing okay," I said, shrugging. "She's out looking for bad wizards again."

"Well, it's a good thing you're here now, so yeh won't be caught up in all that. Oh! Hey! Any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

I grabbed Harry's hand again, his warmth seeping into my cold hand. We followed Hagrid, slipping and sliding as we made our way through the dark on a steep and narrow path.

"Yeh all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

Everyone of us "ooh-ed" and "ah-ed" as the path in front of us opened to reveal a glittering black lake. Across the lake on a hill sat Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Oh, how I've missed this place," I sighed, looking up at the castle's lights and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid shouted, pointing to a whole bunch of boats in the water near the shore. Harry, Ron, and I got into one. Hermione followed us.

"Everyone in?" Hagrid asked. "Okay, forward!"

All of the boats started to move as one unit. No one spoke; we were all too busy staring at the castle looming above us.

"Heads down!" Hagrid yelled, and we all ducked as a curtain of ivy (*pun intended :) *) brushed our heads. We went through a dark tunnel under the castle, stopping at an underground harbor where we all stumbled off with jelly legs.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" Hagrid asked Neville as he got out of his boat.

"Trevor!" Neville cried, grabbing the toad. Then we walked through a passageway in the dark, following Hagrid's lamp, ending up on the wet grass in front of Hogwarts. We walked up the stairs to the large oak doors.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Hagrid raised his large fist, knocking thrice on the doors that would lead us to our home for the next seven years.


	2. Chapter 2: Wood and Willows, Trees Unite

Immediately, the door opened, revealing an older witch wearing emerald robes.

"The firs' years, Professor Mcgonagall," Hagrid said.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the doors open all the way. The entrance hall was huge, torches creating shadows on the stone walls. A magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors seemed to glow. Nostalgia clouded my heart, and I smiled.

We followed Professor Mcgonagall across the stone floors to a small chamber near the Great Hall. All of the first years stood closely together, looking around nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

I noticed her look at Neville, whose cloak was fastened under his left ear, and then at Ron, who still had a smudge of dirt on his nose. I ran my fingers through my hair, biting my lip.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," Professor Mcgonagall said. "Please wait quietly."

She turned to leave, but before she fully had her back to us, she looked back and caught my eye. A light smile graced her lips, and then she walked into the Great Hall.

Harry turned to Ron and I. "How exactly do we get sorted?"

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking," Ron replied.

"Don't be silly, Ron. I doubt there'll be a test," I said, biting my lip and scrunching up my nose. "At least, I hope there isn't... I'm not prepared at all."

All of a sudden, screams rang out behind me.

"What the - ?"

About twenty ghosts glided above us. I smiled in recognition of the ghosts that had kept me company when I was younger.

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"

Sir Nicholas, the ghost wearing a ruff and tights, had noticed us standing beneath them, staring.

"New students! Hello, Ivy! It's great to see you!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at us. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

I nodded, along with a few others.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," a sharp voice said. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start."

It was Professor McGonagall. All the ghosts floated through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall said to us, "and follow me."

I wedged myself in between Ron and Harry as we walked out of the chamber, through the hall, and into a large room with many eyes staring at us which I recognized as the Great Hall. It was magnificent. Candles bobbed above our heads. We walked through the center of four long tables to the front of the room. There was another long table for the professors, which we stopped in front of, facing the crowd, back to the professors.

I could see every face looking at us, shining from the candle lights. Looking around nervously, I tried to find a familiar face in the crowd. A hand waved to me. I grinned when I saw that Oliver Wood, my childhood friend, beaming at me from the Gryffindor table.

Professor Mcgonagall placed a mangled-looking hat on a wooden stool. I stared at it, wondering if the hat had anything to do with our sorting. All of a sudden, a rip near the brim opened wide, and like a mouth, it started to speak.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on!

Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

Everyone clapped loudly when the hat finished its song. It bowed to the four tables before becoming still again. I let out a sigh of relief, glad we wouldn't have to do anything too bad.

Professor Mcgonagall stepped forward, holding a long roll of parchment in her hands. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!

Hannah slowly walked up to the awaiting hat where she sat on the stool. The hat was placed upon her head. A moment went by before the hat opened its mouth and shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The Hufflepuff table clapped and cheered as Hannah shyly joined them. The line continued on and on. It seemed as though everyone were nervous as they watched with wide eyes and clasped hands.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brown, Lavender!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Lavender had been the first Gryffindor so far, and I started freaking out even more as I glanced at the Gryffindor table. I caught Oliver's stare and gave him a nervous smile. He grinned back and shot me two thumbs up. I bit my lip before turning back to look at the hat.

"Potter, Harry!"

The room became dead silent; not a single person spoke. Harry looked to Ron and I with a deer-in-the-headlights expression, but we urged him to go. He slowly walked to the hat, sitting on the stool before the hat was placed on his head. It seemed forever before the hat had decided where to place Harry.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

All of a sudden, the Gryffindor table burst out into cheers and clapping. Ron's brothers were singing, "We've got Potter! We've got Potter!" Harry let out a shaky breath before taking the hat off and hopping off the stool. He walked to the Gryffindor table, sitting across from Sir Nicholas.

I noticed that Draco had gotten into Slytherin, and Hermione had gotten into Gryffindor. A few more students passed before it was only Ron, another boy, and I.

"Weasley, Ron!"

I let out a sigh of relief when the hat yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!" Thank goodness Ron had gotten into the house he had wanted.

"Willows, Ivy!"

I walked to the stool, sat on it, and then the darkness inside the hat covered my eyes.

"A Willows, huh?" said the hat. "You're the perfect combination of your mum and dad. I know exactly where to put you. GRYFFINDOR!"

I popped up, taking off the hat before running over to the Gryffindor table. Harry and Ron waved me over, and Oliver was a few seats away. I sat on the other side of Harry before watching the last student be sorted.

"Zabini, Blaise!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table clapped, and Dumbledore got onto the podium in front of us all.

"Welcome! I welcome you all to Hogwarts. Before you all enjoy your feast, I'd like to say a few words. Here they are: Nitwit. Blubber. Oddment. Tweak. Thank you!"

I grinned before turning to the food that had just appeared on the silver platters.

"Not to sound rude but, is Dumbledore mad?" Harry asked uncertainly, a dumbfounded look upon his face.

"Dumbledore? He's a genius! The best wizard ever to have lived! A bit mad, yes, though. Potatoes, Harry and - er, Ivy, was it?" asked an older boy with red hair to Harry and I. I nodded before replying, "Yes, please."

For the next few minutes, Harry, Ron, and I spent the next few minutes grabbing as much food as we could and piling it onto our plates. Two steaks, one porkchop, lots of fries, and a spoonful of roasted potatoes decorated my plate.

"That does look good," said Sir Nicholas sadly as he looked at us cutting our steaks.

"I've forgotten to greet you, Sir Nicholas," I said giving him a smile. "It's good to see you again."

"And I you," said he. "I have not introduced myself to your friends, though. My name is Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Harry nodded.

Ron said, "Wait, I've heard about you. You're Nearly Headless Nick!"

Seamus Finnigan, the boy sitting a few seats away, asked, "How can you be _nearly_ headless?"

The ghost sighed irritably. "Like this." He pulled on his left ear, causing his entire head to fall to the side, attached to his neck only by a flimsy piece of skin. He look pleased to see our dumbfounded expressions.

"So - new Gryffindors! I suppose you will help us win the house championship this year. Gryffindor has never gone so long without winning. Slytherin has gotten the House cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron is becoming unbearable. He's their resident ghost."

I looked over to the Slytherin table and spotted the Bloody Baron. I was pleased to see that a frowning Draco Malfoy had gotten stuck sitting next to the baron.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus.

"I've never asked," said Sir Nicholas delicately.

After we'd all eaten as much as we could of the delicious hot food, the platters were sparkling clean the next moment before my favorite kinds of foods appeared upon them: desserts of all kind!

I grabbed a chocolate trifle and a block of chocolate chip ice cream, and as we enjoyed our treats, the talk turned to the topic of our families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him." The others laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" said Ron.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all- Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me - he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned - but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced - all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here - they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

I felt a tap on my shoulder, turning to see my favorite person in the whole world: Oliver Wood.

"Oliver," I exclaimed, standing up and hugging him tight. He wound his arms tightly around my waist, picking me up. "I'm so proud of you! I knew you'd get into Gryffindor; it's in your blood."

"Thanks! I'm super happy I'm not in Slytherin," I said, letting out a small laugh.

He put me down and patted my head. "I'll see you in the common room later so enjoy your dessert, okay?"

I nodded, and Oliver and I went back to our respective seats to finish our desserts. Taking my time to savor the chocolatey goodness I planned to thoroughly enjoy, I listened in on Ron's conversation with Seamus and Dean.

"Ouch!" Harry exclaimed all of a sudden, slapping a hand to his forehead.

"What's wrong, Harry?" I asked him, worried. His eyebrows furrowed and his gaze was on the teachers' table.

"N-nothing." He closed his eyes for a second.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked.

"That's Professor Snape," I said. "He teaches Potions here but everyone knows he actually wants Quirrell's job, Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"You already know your professors, Ivy? Well done on your preparation!" Percy, the red-headed boy who had offered us potatoes, said.

I smiled and let out a little laugh. "No, no, it's not like that. I used to come here when I was younger. My mum didn't trust anyone else to look over young, little me when she was on her missions so she would Floo me over to Dumbledore's office and I would spend my time here."

"That certainly explains a lot," said Harry.

Finally, the desserts disappeared and Dumbledore stood up, the hall going silent. "Now that you've all been fed and watered, I'd like to go over a few start-of-the-term notices. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. A few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

A few laughs sounded, Harry included, but the air was tense and serious.

"He's not serious?" I heard Harry mutter to Percy.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore.

Dumbledore flicked his wand and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, twisting into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

The Great Hall produced a noise like no other:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

just do your best,

we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

Everyone finished at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was the one who clapped the loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The first years followed Percy out of the Great Hall and up the twisting and winding staircases. I waved hello to certain portraits that I was familiar with, pleased to see they had still recognized me. Familiarity overtook me as we walked through hidden doorways behind tapestries and sliding panels. A lot of stairs later, we came to an abrupt halt.

There were a whole bunch of walking sticks floating in the air in front of us, and as Percy took a step forward, they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist."

He raised his voice, "Peeves - show yourself."

A weird sound, like when air was let out of a balloon, could be heard.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?" Percy said.

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross- legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! Ooh, even better, I spot little itty-bitty Ivy Willows! What fun!"

He suddenly swooped down towards us. We all ducked, screams scattered in the air.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy. Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. We could hear his flying away, rattling suits of armor along the way.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy as we started walking again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him; he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the end of the corridor, there was a painting with a fat lady dressed in pink on it.

"Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. We all scrambled through the hole, setting our eyes on the center of our home for the next seven years: the Gryffindor common room. It was a cozy round room with squashy armchairs and tables all around. The fireplace was crackling with congratulations, and I truly felt as though I had found myself a second home.

Percy directed the girls to a door that would lead us to our dormitory. We trudged up the long spiral staircase that branched off into different halls. I found the room with my name and four others on a plaque and entered. Hermione, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and Fay Dunbar were already inside with their trunks by their bed. I spotted the last empty bed with my trunk next to it. Liakáda lay curled up on the soft gold and crimson blanket, snoozing away. Yawning, I opened my trunk and pulled on my pajamas, as did the other girls. I lifted Liakáda gently, crawled into bed, and placed her next to my head. In the next few minutes, the only sounds that could be heard were our snores of content and satisfaction of finally finding a second home.


	3. Chapter 3: Life: From Bad To Good To Bad

CHAPTER 3

 **Life: From Bad To Good To Bad**

The next morning, I found myself walking with Harry and Ron to our classes. Everywhere we went, people kept pointing and whispering about Harry. I understood that it was like seeing a celebrity, but they were making it so obvious that it became hard for us to ignore the stares and whispers. Getting to class was harder than I thought.

The stairs were infinite and winding; there were certain steps that you needed to avoid, and it didn't help that the staircases themselves moved. Doors that seemed real were in fact just walls pretending to lead to places. It seemed like my explorations at Hogwarts when I was younger didn't help at all, especially when we were on a time crunch.

Peeves was also an obstacle. He would lead students the wrong way, take their things, or dump unknown substances atop wandering pupils. Other ghosts, such as Sir Nicholas, were happy to help, luckily.

But even worse than Peeves was Argus Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts. We'd managed to get on his bad side on the first day when he found us struggling to open a door that was actually the forbidden room Dumbledore had warned us not to go near. Filch was convinced that we were trying to find out the room's secrets, and we were saved by a passing Professor Quirrell.

His cat, Mrs. Norris, was just as bad. Do one thing even remotely wrong, and she would whisk off to get him, and he'd be there in a flash. I disliked her immensely.

And then the classes: I loved them. I enjoyed looking at the stars and studying them and their movements. Professor Sprout, our Herbology teacher, taught us how to care for certain plants and their uses. Even History of Magic wasn't as bad as Oliver had told me; Professor Binns droned on and on, but the events he spoke about were fascinating.

My favorite classes were Charms and Transfiguration. Professor Flitwick was a short man and easily excitable. This was proven when he fell off his desk after reading Harry's name on the roll call sheet.

In Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall was ever the firm but caring teacher. She started off by telling us Transfiguration was not something to mess around with.

"Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned," she said before turning her desk into a pig. The whole class was awed and we couldn't wait to get started.

After taking lots of complicated notes, she gave us each a match and told us to try and turn it into a needle. At the end of class, I had managed to turn mine into one, and Hermione's had gone all silver and pointy. Professor McGonagall congratulated us, giving us a small smile.

But the class we looked forward to the most was Defense Against the Dark Arts. It turned out to be a major letdown. Quirrell's room smelled of garlic, and he told us the story of his garlic-smelling turban. We didn't really accept his explanation, especially when Seamus asked how he fought off a zombie. Quirrell turned pink and started rambling about the weather.

On Friday, Harry, Ron, and I had managed to get to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost.

"What have we got today?" Harry asked us, grabbing a bowl of porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," I said. "Snape is Head of Slytherin House. I've heard he always favors them. Now we get to see if that's true."

"Wish McGonagall favored us," said Ron wistfully.

All of a sudden, the sound of a hundred owls echoed in the Great Hall.

"Here comes mail!" I exclaimed.

I spotted my family's eagle owl, Manhattan, flying gracefully towards me. She landed on my outstretched arm as lightly as she could (for eagle owls are quite heavy) and offered her leg to me. A small parcel was tied to it. I untied it and dropped the package onto the table before offering Manhattan a piece of bacon. She took it gratefully before softly nibbling my ear and taking flight to join the other owls in the owlery to rest before flying back home.

"Ivy, Hagrid's just sent me a note," Harry said, showing me Hagrid's short letter.

"Of course we'll visit him! Tell him we'll be there at three," I said.

After breakfast, we hurried along to the cold dungeons where our Potions class was. Snape started off by taking the roll call, pausing and leering when he got to Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. I turned to narrow my eyes at them. Draco and I made eye contact, and he gave me a flirty wink. I, in turn, gave him my best death glare. He just smirked and turned away.

By that time, Snape had finished calling all of the names, and he turned to face us all. His dark eyes were cold and calculating; it seemed he held no warmth in his heart.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began, speaking no louder than a whisper. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

I pursed my lips and next to me, I could see Harry and Ron exchanging glances. Hermione was on the edge of her seat, looking desperate to prove she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry looked at me in confusion before giving Ron the same face. Hermione's hand had shot into the air.

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

Snape sneered, his face obviously tainted with contempt and disdain. "Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione's hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione's hand stretched even higher, and I started to feel immensely bad for both Harry and Hermione.

I could see Malfoy and his stupid goons shaking with laughter. I so strongly wished I could hex them into oblivion; they were such insensitive gits!

"I don't know, sir," Harry said.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, huh, Potter?"

Harry stared at Snape with an expression of loathing. Snape was still ignoring Hermione's restless hand in the air.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Hermione suddenly stood, hand still waving in the air.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

I let out a laugh but quickly covered it up when I noticed Snape's unpleasant expression.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

Everyone hurriedly rummaged in their book bags for a piece of parchment and a quill.

"And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter," said Snape.

As the lesson continued, things got worse for the Gryffindors. Snape put us into pairs and told us to mix a simple potion to cure boils. I got paired with Hermione, and together we got to working on the potion. Snape was walking around, criticizing everyone, when he got to us. He looked at our potion inside my cauldron and then at our cutting boards.

"Stop murdering those snake fangs, Granger," Snape snapped. His eyes seemed to softened as he looked at me. "Don't crush them so roughly, Willows. You want to keep as much powder as you can in your mortar."

I furrowed my brows before nodding. Hermione threw me an acidic look as though it were my fault that he had yelled at her.

Snape was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when giants puffs of green smoke and a loud hissing noise filled the dungeons. Seamus' cauldron had melted into a black blob, and their potion was spreading across the stone floor, burning holes into people's shoes. Within a few moments, everyone was standing on their stools except for Neville, who had suffered the full extent of the explosion. Boils sprang up all over his arms and legs, leaving him moaning in pain.

"Idiot boy!" Snape snarled, clearing the spilled potion with a simple spell. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

I cringed as boils started to pop up on Neville's nose. That must've hurt loads.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus.

Then he went off on Harry and Ron, who were working next to Neville. "You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

My mouth dropped. That was so unfair to Harry. Snape was acting the exact opposite of how he had acted towards me. I didn't know whether to think he was nice or if he was actually a prick.

An hour later, we were climbing the steps out of the dungeon. Harry carried a dismal air about him, sighing every so often.

"Cheer up," said Ron, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you guys?"

A little before three, we left the castle and made our way across the grounds. Hagrid's small wooden house was on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes decorated his front door. I knocked on the door, and a frantic scrabbling and a few booming barks could be heard. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang - back."

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."

He let us in, struggling to keep his grip on the collar of my favorite dog, Fang.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded to me.

"Hi there, Fang!" I cooed to him as he delivered a few licks to my face happily. "It's so good to see you. Have you missed me? I've missed you so much!"

Fang padded after me as I walked over to Harry, Ron, and Hagrid, sitting in one of Hagrid's chairs near the table.

"This is Ron," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but we pretended to enjoy them as we told Hagrid all about our first lessons. Fang lay his head on my knee, drooling while I scratched and rubbed his head and ears.

I giggled when I heard Hagrid call Fitch "that old git."

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her - Filtch puts her up to it."

Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid told him that Snape didn't really like anyone.

"But he seemed to really hate me."

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"

"But he seemed to go easy on Ivy," said Ron.

I made a sour face. "Just a bit, Ron. It wasn't like he was showering praise upon me like he did Draco."

Hagrid changed the subject abruptly.

"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot - great with animals. Ivy's great with them, too, but no'ffense or anythin', Charlie was great."

While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, I noticed Harry grab a piece of paper from under a tea cozy on the table and read it. Fang pushed his nose into my hand, wanting me to pet him more.

"Hagrid!" exclaimed Harry, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"

I cocked my head in confusion; Hagrid wasn't meeting Harry's eyes. He just grunted and offered him another rock cake.

As we walked back to the castle for dinner, our pockets full of rock cakes that Hagrid insisted we take, silence descended upon our group. Harry was thinking, Ron was looking around, and I was pondering when I would get the chance to talk to Oliver. I hadn't seen him, never mind talked to him, since the day we had arrived on the Hogwarts Express.

We finally got to the Gryffindor common room, and I wanted to go find Oliver.

"I'm going to go find someone, guys," I told them.

"Sure," said Harry. "Be careful and don't get stuck in some stairs or something."

I laughed before exiting the common room to find Oliver.

I spotted him practicing Quidditch in the stadium. The charmed Quaffles were throwing themselves at the goals, and Oliver was attempting to deflect them.

"Oliver!" I yelled, catching his attention and causing the Quaffles to dart past him as he was distracted.

"What're you doing here, Ivy?" he asked as he flew his broom to land in front of me. Oliver unmounted the broomstick and ran a hand through his hair, forehead glistening with sweat.

I shrugged. "Just wanted to catch up with you. We haven't talked or hung out since the first day we got here."

Oliver grinned mischievously, and I knew something was up.

"Then go grab a practice broom and let's practice some Quidditch skills of yours," he said. "Well, that is, if you're not afraid of a challenge against the," he cleared his throat before haughtily brushing his shoulders in a joking manner, "Quidditch team captain of Gryffindor."

I smirked. "Bring it on."

* * *

"You've improved," Oliver noted as our feet finally touched the ground after a few hours of practice.

"Thanks," I said, trying to catch my breath. "Guess those impromptu summer Quidditch games you made me play actually did something."

He gasped in mock shock. "Are you saying you didn't have fun playing those games? You wound me, Ivy."

I grinned, rolling my eyes at his childish ways.

"Come on," Oliver said, grabbing the old Cleansweep from my hand and casting a spell that made it zoom back to where we got it. "Let's get back to the castle."

I smiled before skipping along to catch up to him. "It's great to be able to have you by my side now."

He laughed, ruffling my hair, which I promptly fixed. "The summer days are nothing compared to what happens at Hogwarts. You never know what'll happen at a magical school."

"Thanks for being my unbiological brother, Oliver," I stated quietly. I saw him smile as we walked inside the castle.

* * *

Harry groaned as he scanned the notice that had been pinned up in the Gryffindor common room. I looked up from where I sat on a squashy armchair, closing my book before stretching my arms out. "What's the matter, Harry?"

"Flying lessons are starting on Thursday, and guess what? Gryffindors and Slytherins will be learning together," Harry groaned. "Typical. Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

I felt bad. Harry had told Ron and I that he was looking forward to flying lessons more than anything else at Hogwarts.

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

That was true, but then again, Seamus also told stories of his Quidditch adventures all the time, and Ron would tell anyone who would listen about his incidents on a broom. Given, I had told Harry about my playing Quidditch in the summer with a friend, but I had only told him when he asked. Hermione, though, was scared out of her wits for the flying lesson; she knew that flying a broomstick was not something one could learn by reading. Neville also was extremely nervous, as his grandmother never let him ride a broom (with good reason, too; Neville got into at least five accidents per day).

Neville's anxiety and desperation were evident when at breakfast on Tuesday, he hung onto every word of Hermione's lecture, random flying tips from Quidditch Through The Ages. Everyone sitting around her, including Harry, Ron, and I, were extremely bored by her spouting tips and tricks, so the mail coming was a good distraction that finally made her stop reading.

Manhattan had brought me a letter from Mum and a package of sweets she had made that were my favorite. Mum and I called them Sunshine Squares. They were little squares of firm gold-coloured tastiness. I had never seen Mum make them before, but she always fed them to me when I was injured or extremely sick. She told me I wasn't allowed to eat too many or I'd get even sicker. I was glad she sent them over because the Sunshine Squares had a way of making me feel better when Muggle medicine or a spell couldn't.

And meanwhile at the Slytherin table, Malfoy was gloatingly opening up a package of sweets from home that his eagle owl had brought him. I rolled my eyes. That little git just didn't know how to make his ego stop expanding.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. When he had opened it, he showed us what it was: a smoky glass ball the size of a large marble.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things - this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red - oh.."

The Remembrall suddenly turned from its previous smoky state to a bright scarlet. Neville was trying to remember what he had forgotten when that idiot Draco Malfoy walked behind him and snatched the Remembrall from Neville's hands. I, along with Harry and Ron, jumped to our feet to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall appeared quick as a flash.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Malfoy scowled and walked away after dropping the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking," he said, strutting away from us with Crabbe and Goyle trailing behind him.

Finally, at three-thirty that afternoon, the Gryffindors hurried down the front stairs to the grounds for our first flying lesson. The day was perfect: clear skies with a little bit of wind, the sun shining happily as it called to us to hurry and get into the sky. We walked to a smooth, flat area full with green grass that was the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty or so broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. They weren't the best brooms, but so long as you knew how to work with them, they weren't that hard to use.

Madam Hooch arrived. She had helped me when I was younger how to ride and maneuver a broomstick. I owed all of my skills to her (and Oliver, who had polished me).

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

I stood by one, Harry to my left and Ron to my right.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

My broom calmly flew into my hand fairly quickly. Harry's did, too, but it turned out that many of the other brooms had moved a little or had not moved at all. After everyone had gotten their brooms into their hand, Madam Hooch showed us how to mount our brooms without sliding off, walking up and down the rows to correct our grips. I giggle when Madam Hooch told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three - two -"

All of a sudden, a single broom rose up above us all. It was Neville, who had pushed off hard before the whistle had even touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted to him, but to no avail. Neville kept rising straight up faster; his face was white with fear. He looked down and that's when it happened: he slipped off of the broom and fell on the ground, a nasty crack resounding as he lay facedown on the grass. His broomstick, on the other hand, decided that it didn't want to be anywhere near the huddled mess that was Neville, so it lazily drifted away to the forbidden forest.

Madam Hooch ran over to Neville quickly.

"Broken wrist," she muttered. "Come on, boy, it's all right, up you get."

She turned to us. "None of you are to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Poor Neville whose face was red and tear-streaked scampered off with Madam Hooch, who was supporting him.

Immediately after they had left, Malfoy burst out in laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins started laughing, too.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a unattractive Slytherin girl with a face like a pug. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Look!" said Malfoy, running forward to pick something up from the ground. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

It was the Remembrall. Neville must've dropped when he fell.

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone went quiet, waiting in anticipation to see what would happen. Malfoy smiled with malice. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?"

"Malfoy, give it back," I said, glaring at him.

"Well, you'll have to catch me to get it!" Malfoy yelled before jumping onto his broomstick and taking off. He expertly flew up to a height that we would only be able to reach if we flew. "Come and get it, Potter and Willows!"

I growled, getting ready to mount my broom, but Hermione stopped me. "Don't! Madam Hooch said we'd all get in trouble if any of us flew our brooms."

I rolled my eyes and kicked off from the ground hard; I could see Harry next to me doing the same.

The air felt so nice, whipping against my hair and making my robes billow out behind me. Taking in a deep breath, I took myself a little higher, stopping right in front of Malfoy. Harry was by my side, and we were ready to fight to get the Remembrall back.

"Give it here, Malfoy!" I called.

"Or I'll knock you off your broom!" Harry finished.

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried. I raised an eyebrow before smirking; my broom sharply shot forward towards Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy's face was turning paler by the second.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called. It seemed as though Malfoy had just figured that out, too.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted before throwing the glass ball as hard as he could and then quickly flying back to the ground.

"Oh, shoot!" I shouted as the ball started hurtling back down to the ground fast. As if in someone had cast a spell, everything slowed down and I could see the Remembrall falling. I leaned forward, my Quidditch instincts kicking in, and before I knew it, my face was a few feet above the ground and the Remembrall was in my hand. But my momentum wasn't fully stable, and the glass ball was slipping out of my hand. Thinking quick, I quickly turned my head to look for Harry, and when I saw him floating quite a distance away, I took a deep breath and swung my arm hard, a popping sensation causing me to let out a cry before I realized that I had to warn Harry. "Heads up, Harry!"

I clutched my arm in pain, slowly floating back down to the ground, and when I heard the screams of people, I turned to see Harry rolling onto the soft grass with the Remembrall, safely clutched in his grip.

I made eye contact with him, me still supporting my popped out arm and Harry panting, lying on the ground. We grinned at each other.

"IVY WILLOWS AND HARRY POTTER!"


	4. Chapter 4: Surprise!

CHAPTER 4

 **Surprise!**

Harry and I trailed silently behind Professor McGonagall as she marched somewhere with a determined stride. We glanced at each other, and it seemed that we both had the same question: where was she taking us?

We stopped in front of a classroom door, and Professor McGonagall opened it and poked her head in. "Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

Out of the door came my childhood friend, the one I had been playing Quidditch with a few days ago: Oliver Wood. He looked at Professor McGonagall, then Harry, and then me. He gave me a look that said, "What is happening?" I shrugged; I had no idea.

"In here," said Professor McGonagall, pointing us into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves.

"Out, Peeves!" she barked.

Peeves flinched, quickly throwing the chalk into a bin and swooping out, cursing the whole time. Professor McGonagall closed the door and turned to face us.

"Willows, you know Wood. Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Now, Wood - I've found you a new Seeker and Chaser."

Oliver's face lit up like a Christmas tree on Christmas day. "Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "Willows is just what we need on our team. She caught the thing in her hand after a fifty-foot dive and was able to toss it behind her to Potter perfectly with just a quick glance. She's a natural Chaser."

Oliver beamed at me. "That's perfect! We've only got two Chasers as of now because Katie Bell broke a few bones over the summer, and her parents - they're Muggles - don't want her using magic to heal. And I know perfectly well how Ivy plays. She's been practicing since she was little."

"Exactly. Willows is a perfect substitute for the team until Katie Bell heals, which most likely will take a lot of time," said Professor McGonagall. "Now, Potter, it's like he's been playing Quidditch for years. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?"

Harry nodded mutely, and I giggled as his stiff posture suddenly became ten times more relaxed when he realized he wasn't in trouble.

"He caught Willows' toss easily without a problem," Professor McGonagall said to Oliver. "Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it."

"Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" Oliver asked excitedly.

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall explained to Harry.

"He's just the build for a Seeker, too," said Oliver as he walked around Harry, observing him. "Light - speedy - we'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor - a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say. Ivy's got a Nimbus Two Thousand at home; it's amazing. I've been on it, and it's just perfect for Quidditch."

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can bend the first-year rule for these two. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks."

Professor McGonagall peered at Harry and I sternly. "I want to hear that you're training hard, Willows and Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you both."

Suddenly, she smiled. "Potter, your father would have been proud," she said. "He was an excellent Quidditch player himself."

Professor McGonagall walked to the door, opening it, but before she left, she turned to look at us. "And Willows? Go to the Hospital Wing to get your arm fixed. And also, you should tell your mother the news. She'll be very proud of you."

* * *

"You're joking."

Harry, Ron, and I were sitting at the Gryffindor table eating dinner. Harry had just finished telling Ron what had happened to us. Ron's eyes were wide open, and his plate of food lay forgotten (which, by the way, was almost as incredible as the whole Quidditch recruitment thing).

"Chaser? Seeker?" he said. "But first years never - you both must be the youngest house players in about a century!"

"Shush, Ron," I said, looking around. "Professor McGonagall told us to keep it quiet, in case Dumbledore didn't approve."

Ron was so amazed and impressed that he just sat there, staring at us.

"We start training next week," said Harry. "Make sure you don't tell anyone."

"Well done," said George quietly to us. He had sidled up next to us with Fred by his side. "Wood told us. We're on the team, too - Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," said Fred. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You guys must be good. Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

"Anyway," George said, "we've got to go. Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week," Fred smirked. "Anyway, see you guys."

They left and immediately after, another group of people came up to us, but we didn't welcome them.

"Having one last meal, Willows? Potter? When are you getting back on the train?" Malfoy sneered.

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly.

I smirked at Malfoy, raising an eyebrow. That would show him not to mess with my friends and I. Besides, Malfoy wouldn't be able to do anything anyway because the High Table was full of teachers.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," I countered quickly. "I'll be his second. Yours?"

Malfoy turned to look at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them both up.

"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

When Malfoy had left with his two goonies, Harry turned to me.

"What's a wizard's duel?" he asked. "And what do you mean, you're my second?"

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "Well - um - it means that-"

"A second's there to take over if you die," Ron supplied casually.

Harry's face became mortified.

I added quickly, "But people only die in proper duels, like with real wizards. No offense, but the most you and Malfoy will be able to do is send sparks at each other because you guys don't know enough magic to actually harm each other."

Ron interjected here. "Besides, I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" said Harry.

"Throw it away and punch him on the nose," Ron suggested.

"Excuse me."

We looked up to see that the speaker was Hermione Granger.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" muttered Ron under his breath.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying -"

"Bet you could," Ron muttered. I giggled, hitting Ron in the arm.

"-and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night. Think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business," said Harry.

"Tah-tah!" I said, waving her off.

"Good-bye," said Ron.

When dinner had ended, Harry, Ron, and I planned to go up to our dorms and pretend to fall asleep before meeting up downstairs. Upstairs in our room, Hermione kept bugging me and insisting that I was being selfish if I went because it would cost us points.

"Look, Hermione, we're going to be careful. We're going to be fine. We're not going to get caught, so please stop worrying and bugging me about losing points and stuff."

"But Ivy, you guys were lucky the first time when Professor McGonagall didn't expel you guys the first time for flying in the air when Madam Hooch told us not to. Who knows if you'll be lucky this time, too!"

And to this, I promptly rolled over in my bed and ignored her. Liakáda crawled up next to me and curled up in my chest. I smiled and kissed him on the head.

"You're my sunshine, Liakáda."

The clock struck eleven o'clock. I lay in bed, waiting for 11:45 to come; that was when Harry, Ron, and I were going to meet up down in the common room. I took in a deep breath, and for some reason, I started to think about Christmas. What would I do? Knowing Mum, she'd send me a letter, telling me to stay at Hogwarts. But what Mum didn't know was that I'd been counting the years she sent me to Dumbledore to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays: five. Five years in my second home spent; five years without spending Christmas with Mum.

It's selfish of me to think, but sometimes, I wished we were Muggles. Magic was a wonderful thing, but I felt as though being a Muggle, being ordinary, came with less risks and challenges. Being a Muggle was, in my mind, normal. Being a witch was not. I might have been born into a world full of magic, but throughout my life, I felt as though possessing wizarding powers wasn't who I was; or more, being a wizard wasn't completely me. There was a part of me missing, a puzzle piece that I had yet to find. But when would I find it? When would I figure out the other side of my life? _How_ would I find it?

Without the help of Mum, who always seemed to be gone, who was one half of my life... how would I find the other half that completed me? And by other half, I meant my dad.

Mum rarely talked about my father, this mystery man who left my mom and I when I was just a baby. I had always wondered why she described him the same way to me everytime: blond hair, golden eyes, and a personality that would melt anyone's heart. Mum seemed to be so in love with him, and to be totally honest, I felt bad for her. She had to go through heartbreak after having a child with that man.

A single mother (a witch, no less) like her did pretty well with a child like me, though. I owed everything to Mum.

I was snapped out of my reverie when I felt Liakáda shifting under the covers. Taking a look at the clock, I noticed that it was finally 11: 43. I crawled out of bed, wearing some leggings and a comfy sweater, and slipped on my shoes before taking a glance at the other girls sleeping and then running downstairs as quietly as I could.

The fireplace in the common room was dying out, and the few sparking embers created shadows. Harry and Ron stood by the girls' dormitory stairs, waiting for me.

"You guys ready?" whispered Harry when he spotted me hurrying down to meet them.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I said quietly.

Ron held his hands up, shrugging. "I'm not the one fighting so I'll be just fine."

We had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice said, "I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry."

A lamp was turned on, and we could see that the voice belonged to Hermione. She stood with her arms crossed and a frown on her face.

"You!" said Ron furiously. "Go back to bed!"

"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped, "Percy - he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

"Oh my gosh, Hermione. I can't believe you," I said, rolling my eyes before following Harry and Ron, who had already climbed through the hole.

But Hermione wasn't going to give up.

"Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells," she hissed, following us.

"Go away."

"All right, but I warned you. You just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow. You're so -"

But she had suddenly stopped. When she turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady, she found that the Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime stroll. Hermione was most certainly locked out.

"Now what am I going to do?" she asked shrilly.

"That's your problem," said Ron. "We've got to go, we're going to be late."

We hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with us.

"I'm coming with you," she said.

"You are not," Ron countered.

"D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up."

"You've got some nerve -" said Ron loudly.

"Quiet, you guys!" I said sharply. "I heard something."

"Was it Mrs. Norris?" Harry whispered, trying to make something out of the darkness.

We could see something on the floor. No, wait, it was a person: Neville, to be exact. He was sleeping, curled up on the floor, but jerked awake when I poked his arm.

"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours because I couldn't remember the new password to get into bed."

"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's 'Pig snout' but it won't help you now. The Fat Lady's gone off somewhere," said Ron.

"How's your arm?" I asked Neville.

"Fine," said Neville, showing us his perfectly normal-looking arm. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."

"Good - well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere so we'll see you later -"

"Don't leave me!" said Neville as he quickly got up to his feet, "I don't want to stay here alone. The Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

Sighing, Ron took a look at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione and Neville. "If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about and used it on you."

Hermione opened her mouth, like she was about to say something, but Harry hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned us forward. We darted through corridors that were only lit by little bars of moonlight from high windows. I was scared out of my wits; I kept expecting to run into someone that would punish us.

Finally, we got to the trophy room, but Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet. The cups, shields, and plates twinkled as little slivers of moonlight caught on their reflective surfaces. Our group held our breaths while we waited for Malfoy.

Harry took out his wand, in case Malfoy decided to attack immediately after he arrived. We stood in the corner of the room, completely cloaked in darkness, for who knows how long. All I know was that we waited a long time.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.

All of a sudden, we heard a noise in the next room. I froze and looked at the door, and that's when I heard a voice who was definitely not Malfoy: "Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

My face was painted with horror when I realized that the voice had belonged to Filch. Harry hurriedly waved at us to follow him through the door opposite from where we heard Filch's voice coming through.

We had just made it out of that room when we heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere," I could hear him mutter, "probably hiding."

"This way!" Harry mouthed to us, and we all began to creep down a gallery lined with suits of armor. I could hear Flich coming closer and closer.

Out of nowhere, Neville let out a frightened squeak and started to run, but his biggest mistake was grabbing Ron, causing them to both crash into a suit of armor. The sound was absolutely deafening, loud enough to wake the entire castle.

The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.

"RUN!" Harry yelled, and we all sprinted down the gallery, not even sparing a glance behind us to see if Filch was following us or not. Harry led us through different corridors until we ended up near our Charms classroom, which was far away from the trophy room.

"I think we've lost him," I said, leaning over to catch my breath.

"I - told -you," Hermione wheezed in short breaths. "I - told - you."

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower," said Ron, "quickly as possible."

"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione said to Harry. "You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you - Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room. Malfoy must have tipped him off."

None of us replied to her.

"Let's go," Harry said.

We took a few steps when a doorknob rattled and Peeves shot out of the classroom in front of us. It was Peeves. He squealed when he caught sight of us.

"Shut up, Peeves - please - you'll get us thrown out."

Peeves cackled. "Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please," I begged.

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes told another story. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, trying to hit Peeves. This was, of course, a huge mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

"Hurry, guys!" I yelled as I ran under Peeves down the corridor. The rest quickly followed behind me, and we came up against a locked door.

"This is it!" Ron moaned as we tried to push it open. "We're done for! This is the end!"

I could hear footsteps, Filch's footsteps, to be exact, as he hurried towards Peeves's shouts.

"Oh, move over," Hermione said, pushing Harry and I over.

She grabbed Harry's wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, "Alohomora!"

I heard a click and the door swung open; we hastily made our way into it, closing the door and pressing our ear to it, listening.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" I could hear Filch say. "Quick, tell me."

"Say 'please.'"

"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," taunted Peeves.

"All right. Please."

"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!"

I could hear Peeves laughing as he floated away and Filch cursing and stomping his foot.

"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered.

I added on, "I'm pretty sure we're okay - what, Neville?"

He had been tugging on my sleeve for the past minute. I turned around. "Oh my Merlin."

"What?" Harry said before turning around.

I'm sure he felt the same as I did at that moment; we were looking straight into the eyes of a gigantic three-headed dog. The beast and I held eye contact, for I was frozen stiff; anyone would be scared if they were about to be mauled by a monster in a forbidden corridor. Loud growls started coming from the dog.

We backed up slowly, and I grasped the door handle behind my back. In a flash, we were out the door and running down the corridor back to the Gryffindor Tower.

"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at our messy clothes and flustered expressions.

"Never mind that; pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry, and the Fat Lady allowed us to go in.

Once we made it back into the safety of the common room, we fell into armchairs, trembling and breathing heavily. We didn't speak for a long time.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Ron finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" Hermione snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

I gave her a look. "The floor?"

Harry laughed weakly. "We weren't looking at its feet, we was too busy with its heads."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something."

She stood up, giving us glares. "I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed - or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

Ron stared after her, his face full of disbelieving. "No, we don't mind," he said.

I sighed, leaning against the armchair's soft back. "It's like Hermione forgot that she decided to go with _us_ in the first place."


	5. Chapter 5: Basketball?

CHAPTER 5

 **Basketball?**

The next morning, I was pleased when I saw Malfoy's face of incredulity as we walked past him. I'm sure Harry and Ron felt the same as I did, too. Harry filled Ron and I in about the package from Gringotts going to Hogwarts. The majority of our time together consisted of us wondering what could've been in the package that was so heavily guarded.

¨It's either really valuable,¨ said Ron.

¨Or really dangerous,¨ I chipped in.

"Or both," said Harry.

The only thing we knew for certain was that the object was small and could fit into that little package that protected it from curious eyes, such as ours. On the other hand, Neville and Hermione were adamant in forgetting the whole ordeal. Hermione refused to speak to us. I felt a bit irked because she kept sticking her nose up to me whenever she saw me in the dorm room. Harry and Ron didn't care about Hermione's attitude. In fact, they took it as Hermione wouldn't be able to boss them around anymore.

As we were eating breakfast one day, the mail arrived in its usual manner, carried by a myriad of owls, all different colors. Something was different today, though; Two long, thin packages (carried by six large screech owls each) caught the eyes of everyone in the Great Hall. I stared at the brown wrapping, wondering why the shape was so familiar.

It came as a surprise to everyone when the two packages were dropped right in front of Harry and I, crashing into our plates and goblets. One owl dropped a note on top of my package; another did the same for Harry.

I grabbed my letter and quickly opened it up.

DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE.

It contains your Nimbus Two Thousand from your house. I don't want everyone knowing that you have a broomstick at school or they'll all want to get one or bring theirs. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session.

Professor McGonagall

I smiled. I couldn't wait to finally participate in an actual Quidditch practice.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" I heard Ron saying to Harry. "I've never even touched one."

Harry nudged me and we rushed out of the hall to open our broomsticks, but halfway across the entrance hall, we found that our way upstairs was blocked by two trolls and a slimeball. You guessed it: Malfoy and his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry's package was ripped from his hands by Malfoy. Understanding dawned on his face before spite and jealousy covered it up.

"That's a broomstick. Both of you, you've got broomsticks," Malfoy spat. "You'll be in for it this time, Willows, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."

"They're not any old broomsticks," Ron goaded, "they're Nimbus Two Thousands. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?"

Ron grinned at Harry and I. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy retorted. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Professor Flitwick suddenly appeared at Malfoy's elbow. "Not arguing, I hope, boys?"

"Potter and Willows have been sent broomsticks, Professor," said Malfoy quickly, trying to rat us out.

"Yes, yes, that's right," Professor Flitwick said, grinning from ear to ear at Harry and I. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances. What models are they?"

"They're both Nimbus Two Thousands, sir," Harry said as he tried to stifle the laugh when he saw Malfoy's look of horror.

"And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that we've got them," I added.

We all headed upstairs, holding in our laughter at Malfoy's confusion.

"Well, it's true," I sang as we reached the top of the marble staircase."If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall we wouldn't be on the team..."

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" an angry voice exclaimed from behind us. Hermione stomped her way up to us, looking at the packages in our hands with evident disapproval.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Harry.

"Yes, don't stop now," said Ron, "it's doing us so much good."

Hermione stormed away, 'harrumphing' as she went.

Throughout the day, I couldn't focus on my classes. My thoughts kept wandering to the team and our first game, which would be upon us soon. When dinner came around, Harry urged Ron and I to eat faster so we could go upstairs to unwrap our broomsticks. Harry and Ron went to their dorm; I promised I would meet them in their room after I had gotten my package.

A _tsk_ of disapproval was fired in my direction as I picked up the long, thin package laying on my bed.

"What, Hermione?" I asked, facing her with an annoyed expression.

She gave me a tight-lipped look before whirling around and stomping into the restroom. I shook my head, sighing, and made my way to the boys' dorm.

"Come on, Ivy; sit down already. Let's open them!" Ron urged as Harry closed the door behind me.

"Okay, okay," I laughed, and Harry and I got to work unwrapping the broomsticks.

"Wow," Ron breathed as Harry's new Nimbus Two Thousand rolled onto the bedspread. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top.

I smiled, holding my own gently-used broomstick up to the light.

"Wait," Harry said. "What's that on your broom, Ivy?"

"Where?" Ron said, looking at my Nimbus up and down. "What?"

Harry pointed to some golden letters under the Nimbus Two Thousand inscription. "This thing, I can't read it."

"It says Ivy Willows," I said, smiling as I reminisced. "My mom got it inscripted for me when we bought it a month back. She says that broomstick and flyer hold a special relationship together. The writing supposedly creates a stronger bond."

"Really?," Ron said, fascinated. "I've never heard of that, but if it'll help Gryffindor win this year, I'm all for it."

* * *

Seven o'clock was approaching fast, and normal, calm Ivy became jittery and anxious Ivy. Sure, it wasn't my first time playing Quidditch, but the idea that I would be playing in an actual team that actually counted towards something left me nervous.

Harry and I entered the stadium. I saw Harry gaze in wonder at the raised stands and the Quidditch hoops.

I pulled in a breath of crisp, cool air before mounting and kicking off hard. The wind rushed through my hair, caressing my face as I reveled in the familiarity of my bonded Nimbus.

"Harry, try out your Nimbus," I called down to Harry. He mounted his broom and kicked off, reminding me of someone who had been flying for years. I smiled when I saw Harry laughing as he swooped through the goalposts and did laps around the field.

"Hey, Ivy! Potter!"

Oliver had arrived, carrying a huge wooden crate underneath his arm. Harry flew down to Oliver with ease, and I followed behind him, landing with firm feet.

"Very nice, Potter," said Oliver, and I could see the praise in his eyes. "I see what McGonagall meant... you really are a natural."

Harry looked at me and grinned.

"Okay, so Ivy already knows the rules of Quidditch, but the reason she's here is one, to review, and two, for moral support because you both are the first first years to ever be on the team."

With this, Oliver smiled broadly. "This practice is mostly for Harry, though. I'm going to go over the rules this evening, then you both will be joining team practice three times a week."

I took in a nervous breath before Oliver opened the huge crate, revealing four different-sized balls.

"Right," said Oliver. "Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers. Ivy's one of our Chasers."

A shy smile found itself on my face at the mention of my name.

"Come on, Ivy, no need to be shy," Oliver said, laughing. "You've earned the spot on the team because of your abilities. Don't be shy about it; be proud."

"Thanks, Oliver," I said, feeling lucky that Oliver was one of my best friends. Harry looked at the both of us in confusion.

"Anyway," Oliver continued, taking out a bright red ball the size of a soccer ball, "this ball's called the Quaffle. The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me, Harry?"

"The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score," Harry repeated. "So - that's sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn't it?"

"What's basketball?" said Oliver curiously.

"Never mind," Harry said quickly. Oliver looked at me for an answer.

"Muggle sport; I'll show you next time," I said.

"Yeah," said Oliver. "Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper - I'm Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring."

"Three Chasers, one Keeper," said Harry. "And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that."

I stifled a giggle as I watched him try to remember it all.

"So what are those for?" Harry pointed to the the three balls left inside the box.

"I'll show you now," Oliver said. "You both will need this. It'll fly straight for one of you guys, so be careful."

He handed Harry and I two small clubs, like baseball bats but shorter.

"I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do," said Oliver. "These two are the Bludgers."

He pointed out two identical balls, jet black and a little smaller than the Quaffle. The Bludgers were struggling to escape from the straps that tied them down.

"Stand back," Oliver warned, before unsnapping one of the straps, freeing a Bludger.

Instantly, the little ball of death rose high in the air and then came rocketing down towards my face.

"Ivy!" Harry yelled.

"I got this!" I said, and then hit the little bugger with all my might, sending it spiraling away before it tried to go for Oliver, who lunged for it and managed to put it back in the crate.

"See?" Oliver said, out of breath. "The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team - the Weasley twins are ours - it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team. So - think you've got all that?"

"Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goal posts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team," Harry said as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"Good," said Oliver.

"Er - have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Harry asked me, looking worried.

"It's never happened at Hogwarts, I don't think," I replied, looking to Oliver.

He nodded. "We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers unless they crack your head open."

Harry quickly turned to look at me with a little bit of fear in his eyes.

Oliver laughed. "Don't worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers - I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves."

Oliver reached into the crate out took out the last remaining ball, the tiny, gold, and fluttering Snitch.

"This," said Wood, "is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it can go on for ages - I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep." Oliver paused, thinking. "Well, that's it - any questions?"

Harry shook his head.

"We won't practice with the Snitch yet," said Oliver as he put the golden Snitch back into the crate and closed the whole thing, "it's too dark; we might lose it. Let's try you out with a few of these."

Oliver reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of ordinary golf balls. "Ivy, mind helping?"

"No problem," I answered and followed them up into the air.

Oliver and I took turns throwing the golf balls hard at Harry. Oliver was basically bouncing atop his broom in excitement as Harry caught every single one of the balls we threw at him.

Half an hour later, the sky was dark, and we knew that we couldn't practice without the daylight.

"That Quidditch cup'll have our name on it this year," Oliver said happily as we wearily walked up to the castle. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons."


	6. Chapter 6: Food and Friendship

CHAPTER 6

 **Food and Friendship**

Homework combined with Quidditch practices made two months fly past without my awareness. Everyone at Hogwarts was warming up to each other (with the exception of the Slytherins), and it truly felt like a cozy and comfortable home with tons of new siblings. In addition, my lessons were getting more challenging (in an interesting way), and I looked forward to classes everyday.

Halloween morning started off great: the first thing I smelled was the sweet scent of baking pumpkin pie floating in and out of the corridors.

"Harry, Ron!" I shouted as I quickly ran down the stairs of the girls' dormitories. Ron turned and looked at me with impatience.

"Hurry up, Ivy! I want to see what there is for breakfast," he said, bouncing.

I rolled my eyes, giggling. "Yes, yes, let's go."

After my delicious breakfast (toast with orange marmalade and pumpkin juice), Harry, Ron, and I went along to our classes. The highlight of the day was in Charms, when Professor Flitwick announced that he would be teaching us how to make objects float and move. I had been looking forward to this lesson ever since Professor Flitwick made Neville's toad float around the classroom in the beginning of the school year.

We were put into pairs: Harry with Dean Thomas, Ron with Hermione, and I got partnered with Seamus Finnigan.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too - never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

Starting off was a bit of a challenge. Seamus wanted to try first so I sat there watching him swish and flick his wand, trying to make the feather float. Needless to say, nothing happened. Well, actually, Seamus became so impatient that he set the feather on fire when he prodded it. We had to ask for a new one.

"I give up," Seamus sighed, placing his wand on the desk. "Your turn, Ivy."

I grinned and grabbed my wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Nothing happened, but it was to be expected. It was only my first time, after all.

"You've got this, Ivy," Seamus encouraged.

"Hm," I said, testing out the swish and flick movement and muttering the spell under my breath. "Okay. I think I've got this."

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

My voice blended in with another voice: Hermione's. Our feathers rose in sync to about four or five feet above our heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, they've done it! Miss Willows and Miss Granger!"

When class ended, Ron was not a happy camper.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Harry and I as we squeezed between the throngs of students in the corridor. "She's a nightmare, honestly. "

Someone pushed past my shoulder hurriedly: Hermione. I felt bad when I saw that her face was red from tears.

"I think she heard you," said Harry.

"So?" said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends."

"Nevertheless," I said, sighing, "you can't be that way to her. She just acts the way she acts."

"I thought you didn't like her, either?" Ron asked.

"I don't like her attitude, but I don't think it's fair to be so cold-hearted towards her," I said, before starting in the direction I saw Hermione go. "I'm going to go look for her."

"We'll see you later!" Harry shouted as I walked away.

For the next hour, I looked for Hermione. Luckily, I bumped into Professor McGonagall and told her that I couldn't find Hermione, and she excused us from our last class of the day, reminding us to not miss the Halloween Feast.

After wandering around for about half an hour, I heard sobs coming from inside a girls' lavatory. No one was inside because the last class was still in session. It was the perfect spot to let loose a few tears.

The sniffles became quieter when I walked towards the stall that contained the source of the sobbing.

"Hermione?" I knocked on the stall's door lightly. "Are you okay?"

"Go away."

"So…" I cleared my throat awkwardly. "I'm sorry about Ron. I mean, I feel bad, too. I have to admit, it wasn't fair, the way we acted towards you."

No words, just a quiet sniffle. I took that as an invitation to go on.

"I'm really sorry; we were immature, and we were just annoyed, but that didn't mean we could be like that. I promise to you that from now on, you'll always have a friend in me."

I heard some shuffling before the stall door creaked open. Hermione sat on the ground, face red and tear-streaked.

"Thanks, Ivy," she said, looking down.

I took a seat next to her. "Let's start over."

I stuck my hand out to her and smiled. "Hi, I'm Ivy Willows."

Hermione looked at me with watery eyes before locking hands with me. "Hi," she sniffled, smiling. "I'm Hermione Granger."

It was about six o'clock when we realized that dinner had already started. We had been talking about the most random things, like our homes, what we liked to do, and our Muggle adventures.

"I don't want to go to the Halloween Feast," Hermione said. "Well, quite honestly, I don't want to face Harry and Ron. Actually, some of the first-year Gryffindors probably know because Parvati Patil came in here a little before you found me; I don't want them to say anything."

"Come on, Hermione. It's your first Halloween Feast and besides, I'll stick by your side the entire time, no matter what anyone says."

She looked at me uncertainly. "I don't know…"

"Just for a little bit, please? It'll be really - "

I stopped mid-sentence when I heard a deep growling noise accompanied by a shuffling noise that sounded like it came from huge feet.

Hermione squeaked when we looked under the stall door and saw gigantic, green feet. I slowly reached up to the stall lock, and the door creaked open, revealing a brutish-looking troll.

He looked at us, raised his wooden club, and slammed it to the ground in front of us. Doing the obvious thing, we both screamed for our lives.

"Hermione! Run to the other side of the room while I try to distract him!" I yelled. Hermione had broken out into tears again, but she quickly did as I said.

I pulled out my wand from my pocket and faced the troll with it. There was a moment of hesitation because I hadn't actually learned any of the spells that I had memorized.

This little gap of time allowed the troll to swing his club at me, but he only succeeded in knocking down some of the stalls because I had crawled away to join Hermione, who was huddled against the wall.

The troll came closer and closer, the sinks crashing to the floor as he beat them down in an effort to get closer to us.

"Confuse it!" Harry yelled to Ron.

"Thank Merlin," I breathed as Harry picked up a loose sink tap and hurled it at the wall. The troll paused, slowly lumbered around, looking confused, before spotting Harry. Like he had gone for Hermione and I, the ghastly beast trudged towards Harry, club in hand and ready to strike.

"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The pipe did not seem to affect the troll at all, but Ron's shout was enough to make it turn again and head for Ron. Harry took this chance to gesture wildly to Hermione and I.

"Hurry up! Run, run!"

I pulled Hermione's arm, trying to get her to the door, but she was still frozen stiff, staring at the creature in terror. The troll roared in anger and lumbered towards Ron, who was the closest and had no way to escape.

I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw Harry take a great running jump and fastened his arms around the troll's neck from behind. I was certain that the creature could not feel Harry's body holding on tight to its neck, but Harry's wand up its nostril certainly caught the monster's attention.

Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; I didn't know what to do or think. I was freaking out because I was so scared that Harry would be thrown to the ground or grabbed and flung around. Next to me, Hermione was shaking and staring at the scene in fright, and Ron had his wand pointed towards the beast.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

I watched as the club flew out of the troll's hand, straight up in the air right above it, turning over slowly - before dropping onto the its head with a sickening crack. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

We all got up slowly. I was looking at the troll laying on the bathroom floor. "Is it dead?"

"Um, I don't think so," said Harry. "I think it's just been knocked out."

He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. I looked away; his wand looked as if it were covered in lumpy grey glue.

"Urgh - troll boogers."

He wiped it on the troll's trousers. A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made me snap my head up. I forgot that someone was bound to have heard the screams and crashes.

A moment later, Professor McGonagall came bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart. Snape bent over the troll.

Professor McGonagall gave pointed looks to Harry and Ron; her lips were chalk-white in anger.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air.

"You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

"Please, Professor McGonagall - they were looking for me," Hermione said, finally able to stand up on her own.

"Miss Granger!"

"I went looking for the troll because I - I thought I could deal with it on my own - you know, because I've read all about them," Hermione cleared her throat. "Ivy tried to stop me after she heard that I had gone somewhere and found out that I was chasing the troll, but I wanted to try beating it myself. She told Harry and Ron, and the three came to rescue me. If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Ivy distracted the troll so I could escape, Harry stuck his wand up its nose, and Ron knocked it out with its own club. There was no time for them to fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

I looked at Professor McGonagall, feeling guilty for the lie, but I hoped that she believed our story because we couldn't really tell her what had really caused Hermione and I to be in the restroom in the first place. On the other hand, I was quite surprised by Hermione's convincing lie. It was strange to see her lying straight to a teacher's face.

"Well - in that case…" said Professor McGonagall, staring at the four of us. "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione hung her head.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Hermione left, giving me a small smile before disappearing out the door. Professor McGonagall turned to Harry, Ron, and I.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

We quickly made our way out of the chamber, not saying a word until we had climbed two floors up.

I turned to Harry and Ron. "Thank Merlin you guys came just in time. I owe you both one. The troll was the scariest thing that I had ever faced, honestly."

"No problem, although, I do feel bad." Harry looked sheepish. "Did you know we locked you in there by accident?"

"I doubt they noticed, what with a troll in there with them," said Ron. "Anyway, we should have gotten more than fifteen points."

"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's," Harry said.

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we did save her."

I rolled my eyes at him jokingly. "Goodness, Ron."

"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her and Ivy," Harry reminded Ron.

"Pig snout," I said to the Fat Lady. We had already reached the common room. Climbing in, the noise and crowdedness caught my attention. The food that had been brought up smelled delicious; Hermione and I hadn't eaten dinner at all.

Speaking of Hermione, she stood by the door alone, waiting for us. There was a very embarrassed pause. I looked at Hermione with a sincere smile, but Harry and Ron looked away. All the same, we said, "Thanks," before hurrying off to grab plates.

"I'll see you two tomorrow, then," I said to Harry and Ron. "I'm going to talk to Hermione tonight."

"Sure," Ron said.

"See you tomorrow," Harry said, waving and then disappearing off with Ron.

"Hermione!" I shouted to her, grinning when she walked over to me, previously standing by herself. "Let's go get some dinner."

She linked arms with me, and we walked over to the food table. "That's just what we need right now: some food."

"Perfect," I said, stacking some steak and chips on my plate. "Food and friendship; that's all you need in life, right?"

Hermione and I sat down in front of the warm and cozy fireplace. From our position, we could see Harry and Ron on the opposite side of the room, talking and eating. They noticed us looking, giving Hermione sheepish smiles and me, beaming ones.

"Yeah," Hermione said, looking back at me. "Food and friendship. That's perfect."


	7. Chapter 7: The Snitch Is Not Food

CHAPTER 7

 **The Snitch Is Not Food**

November came, bringing with it a chill. The mountains around Hogwarts were covered in sheets of ice, and the Black Lake's surface had frozen over. Frost coated the ground's surface. Once, I saw Hagrid defrosting brooms outside, cozied up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaver skin boots.

The Quidditch season had begun, and that upcoming Saturday would be my first game: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. There was a good amount of pressure, as we would move up into second place in the house championship if we won. Oliver wanted Harry and I to be his "secrets" until the game, but for some reason, news had leaked that we were playing and we were constantly congratulated or ridiculed. It was getting a bit awkward.

In addition to the many Quidditch practices that Oliver set, homework became a large hindrance. I managed to finish a majority of my work, thanks to a great memory, but my dyslexia was kicking in again. I made a note to myself to ask Mum to send me the potion again; who knew if I could brew it right without mistakes? Oh, wait, she was probably off fighting dark wizards again. The Magical Congress of America issued out secret reports to Mum very often. Her job was highly classified, as she was specially chosen to take it when we moved from England to Manhattan. Of course, though, because her skill set was so great, the Ministry of Magic had also offered an Auror to her before our departure, but Mum declined as she wanted us to live in America because times were rough in England as a result of Voldemort's rise. I didn't mind whether we lived in England or America, to be honest, because I was comfortable with both.

Scotland, however, where Hogwarts was located, was absolutely amazing, and I loved being able to call it my second home. I was glad that Mum had bought a new house in England so I wouldn't have to travel to America every time I went home. Apparating across the ocean was a hard task; at least, from the way Mum was always a bit dizzy after apparating led me to think that.

"Hey, Ivy."

My head snapped up before noticing that Harry had addressed me. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were huddled around a jam jar with a blue flame that Hermione had conjured up. It was the day before our first Quidditch match, and the weather was absolutely freezing. Thank goodness Hermione had learned that spell.

Harry cleared his throat, looking at me weirdly. "You feeling alright?"

"Yeah." I smiled. "Just thinking about some stuff."

Ron nudged Hermione, who stood next to him. "Hey, Snape's coming. We better hide this fire before he finds an excuse to give us detention."

We crowded together, trying to block the jar from Snape's view. As fate would have it, Snape caught the guilty looks on our faces and started to walk over. I noticed that he was limping.

I don't think he had spotted the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to scold us anyway.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"

It was the book that Harry had borrowed from the library, Quidditch Through the Ages. We had been using it to read up more about Quidditch's history. Snape's eyes narrowed when Harry showed him the book.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"He just made that rule up," Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away.

I watched Snape enter the castle before turning back to my friends. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," said Ron bitterly.

That evening, we found ourselves in the Gryffindor common room doing finishing up our Charms homework. Well, actually, Hermione was checking Ron's essay as I checked Harry's, while Harry and Ron were conversing. It was a good thing that Harry caught onto the lessons fast so checking his homework was a breeze, whereas Hermione was struggling to make sense of Ron's sentences.

"Hey, guys," Harry said, getting up and brushing off his robes. "I'm going to ask Snape for my book back. Be back soon."

"Wait up, Harry," I said, also standing up. "I'll come with. I just finished reading over your essay, anyway."

He waited as I ran to join him. We walked out of the Common Room in comfortable silence, making our way to the staff room.

I bit my lip, glancing at Harry. "Um, Harry."

"Yeah?"

"Are you staying for Christmas Break?"

He paused for a second before answering. "I think so. I doubt my aunt and uncle want me back for Christmas. You?"

"Probably staying. Hopefully, our first Christmas together at Hogwarts is well spent," I said.

Harry smiled at me. "I'm sure it will be."

We finally reached the staff room; Harry knocked on the door, but there was no answer.

"That's odd," I muttered. "Thought Professor McGonagall would be in here. Try again, Harry."

He knocked again. "Nothing. D'you suppose he left the book in there?"

I shrugged. "Doesn't hurt to try and look around."

Harry nodded before pushing the door open a little, poking his head through. A few seconds passed and Harry suddenly attempted to close the door quietly. That didn't work too well, considering how the next thing I heard was, "POTTER!"

Harry gulped, saying, "I just wondered if I could have my book back."

"GET OUT! OUT!"

That's all we needed before Harry and I sprinted back upstairs as fast as we could.

"What happened?" Hermione asked when we joined her and Ron.

"Did you get your book?" asked Ron. "What's the matter?"

"Yeah, Harry," I huffed, trying to catch my breath. "What did you see?"

In a low whisper, Harry told us that he had seen Filch wrapping Snape's mangled leg, muttering something about the three-headed dog.

"You know what this means?" he finished breathlessly. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him - he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!"

Hermione's eyes widened and she shook her head.

"He wouldn't," she said. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."

"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Ron. "I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"

"Whatever it is, it must be important, then," I said, wondering what on Earth that dog could be protecting that was so important, it felt the need to attack professors.

Going to bed that night was difficult. All that was on my mind was the Quidditch match that would be taking place in a few hours. It also didn't help that I kept trying to figure out what the dog was protecting.

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was filled with the delicious smell of fried sausages and potato pancakes. Everyone was looking forward to the Quidditch match. I found myself unable to eat more than a spoonful of scrambled eggs, but it seemed that Harry was even more nervous than me, as he wouldn't eat anything at all, no matter how much Hermione tried to persuade him.

"You've got to eat some breakfast."

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast," offered Hermione.

"I'm not hungry."

He sat there, staring at the table, pale and nervous. Worried, I grabbed his hand.

"Harry, you need to eat," I said. "You need your strength in order to play a good match."

"Right," said Seamus Finnigan, who sat on the other side of Harry. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

"Thanks, Seamus," said Harry, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages.

I grinned as Harry shoveled food into his mouth. "Hurry and eat. We've got to get to the pitch soon."

After some more eggs and toast, Harry and I ran down to the field and into the locker rooms. Changing into our scarlet robes, we waited for Oliver to begin his pep talk. He cleared his throat.

"Okay, men," he said.

"And women," said Chaser Angelina Johnson.

"And women," Oliver added. "This is it."

"The big one," said Fred Weasley.

"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred said to Harry and I, "we were on the team last year."

"Shut up, you two," said Wood. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."

He looked at us all with a determined expression. "Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."

Harry followed Fred and George, as was I before I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Oliver.

"Just wanted to say good luck before we went outside," he said, beaming. "I'm proud of you, Ivy. You'll do amazingly."

His last words were drowned out by the cheers of our fellow Hogwarts students when we walked out. Madam Hooch stood in the middle of the field, waiting for the two teams, her broom in hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once we were all gathered around her. The word seemed to be pointed towards the Slytherin Captain, a sixth year called Marcus Flint. Flint smirked before shaking hands with Oliver.

I looked at Harry, giving him a shaky smile. He grinned, pointing up to the Gryffindor side of the stadium, where I noticed Hermione, Ron, Neville, Seamus, and Dean standing above a banner. The words 'Potter for President' and 'Willows for the Win' were painted on, along with a lion that flashed different colors. I took in a breath and breathed out, straightening my back and setting a pertinacious look on my face.

"Mount your brooms, please."

I clambered onto my Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. We were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too -"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor." The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve - back to Johnson and - no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes - Flint flying like an eagle up there - he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle - that's the new first-year Chaser Ivy Willows of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and - OUCH - that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger - Quaffle taken by the Slytherins - that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger - sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which - nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes - she's really flying - dodges a speeding Bludger - the goal posts are ahead - come on, now, Angelina - Keeper Bletchley dives - misses - GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

The Gryffindors cheered while the Slytherins groaned. I grinned, circling around to give Angelina a high-five. Looking up, I spotted Harry slowly hovering around the pitch, looking for the Snitch.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Willows, and speeds toward the - wait a moment - was that the Snitch?"

Everyone in the crowd stood to catch a glimpse of the flash of gold that had whizzed by Adrian Pucey's ear. Pucey had dropped the Quaffle in the midst of the excitement, and I quickly flew beneath him to grab the dropped ball.

I gasped when I saw Harry speeding down to the Snitch, Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs right on his tail. Neck and neck, they hurtled toward the Snitch; it seemed that everyone on the field was just watching them until suddenly - WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below - Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life.

I flew over to Harry, who looked quite shaken. "You alright there?"

"A bit wobbly, but okay," he said.

Madam Hooch ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor, Alicia doing the honors. But of course, the Snitch had disappeared from sight once again.

Lee Jordan was back at the microphone. "So - after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating -"

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul -"

"Jordan, I'm warning you -"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play. Gryffindor still in possession."

Angelina, Alicia, and I continued to pass the Quaffle to each other, using techniques and plays that we had created during our practices. The Slytherin's managed to take intercept one of our passes.

"Slytherin in possession - Flint with the Quaffle - passes Spinnet - passes Willows - hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose - only joking, Professor - Slytherin scores -"

All of a sudden, I heard people murmuring. Looking to where their fingers pointed, my heart skipped a beat when I spotted Harry dangling from his broom. Fred and George tried to get close to Harry to pull him safely onto their brooms, but every time they got near him, the broom rose higher. I was petrified; all I could do was watch as Harry held onto his broom for dear life.

Suddenly, Harry was able to clamber back on to his broom, and the first thing he did was speed straight towards the ground, rolling off his broom. He clapped a hand to his mouth, gagging before letting out a loud cough, something gold falling into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head. And there, the game ended in complete confusion, Lee Jordan announcing that Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty.

Immediately after the match, Hagrid rushed Harry and I to his hut, along with Hermione and Ron.

"It was Snape," Ron was explaining, "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I looked at one another, wondering what to tell him.

"I found out something about him," Harry finally said to Hagrid. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

Hagrid dropped the teapot.

"How do you know about Fluffy?" he said.

"Fluffy?" I asked.

"Yeah - he's mine - bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year - I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the -"

"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher. He'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" cried Hermione. "I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid loudly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all four of yeh - yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog an' you forget what it's guardin'. That's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel -"

"Aha!" said Harry, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

I giggled when I saw Hagrid's look of anger towards himself.


	8. Chapter 8: Christmas Cheer!

The Owlery was jammed packed with owls of all sorts. The weather had become stormy and windy, causing the poor creatures to lose their energy a lot faster. The ones that wouldn't be able to make it home without some healing stayed in the Owlery, where Hagrid would be able to nurse them back to health until they could fly back home.

I had volunteered to help him, as Manhattan had become a battered mess when Mum sent her to bring a letter to me. Sitting on the Owlery floor, Manhattan perched next to me, hooting occasionally as I stroked her feathers. Liakáda curled up in my lap, and I smiled, petting his soft little head, too.

An opened letter lay to my right where I had dropped it after reading what Mum had written on it. I sighed, glancing at it.

 _Dear Ivy,_

 _I hope you're doing well. I'm writing this as I get ready to leave for another mission. I think you know what that means. Truly, I'm sorry and I wish I could spend Christmas with you; it's been much too long since we've spent one together. Your stay at Hogwarts will be amazing, regardless of whether I am there or not. Have a happy Christmas. :)_ _Love,_

 _Mom_

 _P.S. Don't worry! I'll send you your present right on time for Christmas morning. I know you'll absolutely love it. :D_

I heard footsteps, climbing up the steps to the Owlery. Not wanting to talk to someone else, I quickly grabbed the letter next to me and picked up Liakáda. Manhattan hooted in protest at my sudden departure, but I just stroked her feathers, calming her down.

"Oh, hey, Ivy. Didn't know you were in here."

"Hey, Seamus," I said, giving him a smile as I sighed inwardly. I really did not want to talk to anyone while I was in this depressed state of mind, especially Seamus, who had been nothing but kind to me; there was a chance that I would blow up by accident.

Seamus walked over to Manhattan, who stared at him with beady eyes until he placed a hand softly on her head, caressing her. Relaxing, Manhattan closed her eyes.

"Is she your owl?" he asked, looking at me.

I nodded. "Family owl. Her name's Manhattan."

"That's a nice name," Seamus said. "So, what're you doing here so early? Breakfast doesn't start for another hour."

"Hagrid's been taking care of all these injured owls by himself ever since the weather's been acting up," I answered. "He told me that Manhattan had come to drop something off, but that she was pretty winded by the time she got here at Hogwarts. I volunteered to help Hagrid with his owl care-taking duties. I was just about to go and feed them."

Seamus looked at me oddly. "Then why were you about to leave?"

"What?" I looked down, where Liakáda cuddled close to my chest on my left arm and in my right, the letter. "Oh, no reason. Just decided that I should go put some stuff back before coming back up to feed the owls. There's a lot of owl food dishes to be filled."

"What do to the owls eat?" Seamus asked. "I thought they ate mice and other furry animals."

"They do," I said, grinning when I saw Seamus's disgusted face. "Don't worry. All of the mice Hagrid brings up are in a cage and they're put under a stunning spell so that they can't move until we lift it. Then, the owls are free to hunt to their heart's content."

"Hey, actually, mind if I help?" Seamus asked. "It'll be a lot faster. Then you can go put your stuff away, and we could walk to the Great Hall together for breakfast?"

I smiled, nodding. "Sure."

The next forty-five minutes were spent levitating stunned mice out of the huge cage Hagrid had put them in into the giant owl dishes. Seamus had so much trouble with the levitating spell that every time he tried to use it, something would blow up, whether it was his hair or some random bits of straw lying around. It was a morning filled with tons of laughter, and I was actually really grateful to Seamus for helping me forget the letter from Mum, regardless of whether he knew it or not.

"Come on!" I said, laughing at Seamus's unkempt appearance as I pulled Seamus out of the Owlery, letter safe in my pocket and Liakáda trailing behind us. I closed the door of the Owlery before pulling out my wand. "I've got to unfreeze those mice now. _Rennervate_!"

Instantly, I could hear mice squeaking in fear and the flapping of the owls' wings as they chased their prey.

"Sounds terrifying in there, if you ask me," said Seamus, shuddering.

"Agreed," I said. "Now, come on. There's ten more minutes before breakfast, and I've still got to get to my dorm."

"Well then," Seamus said, grabbing my hand, "let's get going!"

* * *

After breakfast, we went to our classes. None were particularly interesting, but there was one thing that I remembered quite clearly because Harry and Ron had to hold me back before I punched Malfoy.

"I do feel so sorry," said Malfoy in Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

He was looking over at Harry as he spoke, but Harry ignored them. I could not, though, as much as I tried. I would have stomped over to Malfoy and his goons and punched them for his insolence had my friends not held me back.

Yes, Harry was not going back home for the holidays. When Professor McGonagall had come around the week before making a list of students who would be staying, Harry had signed up at once. Ron had told us that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie, which meant he was staying, too. Hermione was the only one of us going home.

We walked out of Potions at the end of class and found ourselves unable to get down the corridor. A large fir tree blocked the walkway, and from the two large feet under and the huffing and puffing we heard, we could tell it was Hagrid.

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm alright, thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind us. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose - that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape calmly. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Malfoy shoved past the tree, smirking at us as he walked past.

"I'll get him," said Ron, burning holes into Malfoy's back, "one of these days, I'll get him -"

"I hate them both," said Harry, "Malfoy and Snape."

"Come on, cheer up! It's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I followed him as he lugged the heavy tree to the Great Hall. I noticed Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick levitating different objects around.

"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree - put it in the far corner, would you?"

The hall looked amazing. Little pieces of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.

"Just one," I said.

"Oh, yes," Hermione added. "And that reminds me, Harry, Ron, Ivy, we've got half an hour before lunch. We should be in the library."

"Oh yeah, you're right," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

"The library?" said Hagrid, following us out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," I said to Hagrid brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."

"You what?" said Hagrid, shocked. "Listen here - I've told yeh - drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Hermione.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added.

"Come on, Hagrid," I said. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere - just give us a hint - I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm sayin' nothin," said Hagrid flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said Ron, and we left Hagrid looking disgruntled, hurrying off to the library.

We had indeed been looking for books that mentioned Flamel ever since Hagrid had let it slip, but the task turned out to be quite difficult, as we had no idea where to start. Because we only had a name without any clue as to what he did to get into a book, hours were spent looking for his name.

He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, the library was huge, so there was no way to get through all of the books.

Ron and Harry wandered off, while Hermione pulled out two lists of subjects and titles that she had complied out of her bag.

"Here, Ivy," she said, handing me one. "You can look at those books, while I look at these. With two of us looking, we're bound to find something."

I nodded before making my way to the first aisle. The book whose name was on the top was Famous Witches and Wizards of this Century.

"Hm," I hummed, sliding my finger across the bindings of the books, searching for the title.

"Hello there," whispered a voice. It was Terry Boot, who was a first-year Ravenclaw. "I'm Terry Boot. You're Ivy Willows, right? I remember you from the Sorting."

"Yeah," I whispered. "It's nice to meet you. What're you doing here?"

"I saw you looking a little confused. Need some help finding a book?"

I grinned. "Yes, Famous Witches and Wizards of this Century. I thought it would be in this aisle, but I can't seem to find it."

"Hm, okay," said Terry, scanning the rows of books. "Over there."

He pointed up towards a green leather-bound book. "That's the one, right?"

I nodded, and he grabbed the book, handing it to me. "Anything else?"

"That's okay," I said. "I don't want to waste your time."

"No, not at all," said Terry, shaking his head. "I would love to help you if you needed it."

I gave him a smile. "Don't worry about it. I think my friends are done already, so I'm going to get this book checked out."

"Okay, then," he said. "Nice meeting you."

"Thanks for your help," I whispered as I walked to Madam Pince's desk to check my book out.

"Did you find anything?" asked Harry once I walked out the library doors. "You took a long time and I though Madam Pince had caught you, too."

"Nope," I said. "I ran into another first-year, Ravenclaw."

Ron groaned. "Come on, guy, let's get lunch. I'm starving."

Harry and I laughed as Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered something about Ron eating too much; we made our way down to the Great Hall to have lunch.

"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" asked Hermione after lunch. "And send me an owl if you find anything."

"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," said Ron. "It'd be safe to ask them."

"Very safe, as they're both dentists," said Hermione.

Once the holidays came around, though, Ron, Harry, and I were too busy having fun to think about Flamel. My dormitory was empty, so I had the whole room to myself. Ron and Harry also were the only ones staying in their room, so I had the freedom to hang out with them in their room if I chose to do so. The common room was far emptier than normal, allowing the three of us to sit close to the fireplace on the nice, squashy armchairs. In our free time, we ate anything we could get out hands on - bread, muffins, marshmallows, pastries - and talked about everything that popped into our heads. It was nice to be with my friends for the holidays; I really enjoyed being in their company.

Ron and I teamed up to teach Harry how to play wizard chess. We used Ron's board, which was quite old and battered, but his old chessmen were an advantage to him. They had no trouble listening to him, as they knew his strategies and how he played.

The chessmen that I had lent to Harry to help him learn were the opposite. They didn't seem to trust him very much; every chance they got, they would look at me and say, "Say, Ivy, how about you play?" I'd always shake my head and smile, continuing to give Harry different pieces of advice.

The night before Christmas, I slept in the boys' dorm, as there were many empty beds. They offered me one so we could open presents together early in the morning. I took Seamus's bed, as he was the only other person who I knew pretty well. That night, I went to sleep happily awaiting the morning.

"Hey, Ivy!" Someone shook me. "Wake up! It's Christmas, and we've got to open our presents."

"Ten more minutes," I mumbled into the pillow. "Please."

"Come on," came Harry's voice. "I see a pile of presents for you."

My head shot up, my face lighting up when I realized that, indeed, there were many packages at the foot of the bed. I smiled brightly at Harry and Ron. "Merry Christmas, Harry, Ron!"

"You, too," said Ron, grinning.

"Merry Christmas," replied Harry. "Come on, now, let's open our presents!"

I scrambled to the middle of the room, where Harry and Ron sat with their presents.

" _Wingardium Leviosa!_ " My presents floated up, trailed me, and plopped next to me when I sat down. I spotted the presents that I had gotten for Harry and Ron, and grinning, I wondered how they would react. For Harry, I'd gotten him a sweater with his lightning scar as a joke, but for his actual present, a picture of us two in a golden frame and a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Ron's gift was a huge bag of different candies from Honeydukes (the sweets shop in Hogsmeade). I noticed that they were already starting to open their presents, so I proceeded to do so, also.

I picked up the top parcel, which was wrapped in thick brown paper and on the top were the words, "To Ivy, from Hagrid." Carefully tearing open the wrapping, I pulled out a roughly cut wooden flute. It was plain to see that Hagrid had whittled it himself. I blew a note - it sounded a little bit like an owl. I grinned when I heard Harry do the same.

"That's friendly," said Harry, showing Ron and I the little letter from his aunt and uncle. Attached to the note was a coin. Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence. "Weird!" he said, "what a shape! This is money?"

"You can keep it," said Harry, laughing at how pleased Ron was. "Hagrid and my aunt and uncle - so who sent these?"

"I think I know who that one's from," said Ron, turning a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. "My mom. I told her you didn't expect any presents and - oh, no," he groaned, "she's made you a Weasley sweater."

Harry had torn open the package, only to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge.

"Ivy, I'm positive you've got one, too," Ron said, blushing a little. "I've talked about you and Harry in my letters to her."

Looking around, I found my own lumpy package hidden in the large pile of presents. A large, but very cozy-looking, white sweater was revealed, along with a box of fudge, when I opened it. "That's so sweet of your mom."

"Every year she makes us a sweater," said Ron, unwrapping his own, "and mine's always maroon."

"That's really nice of her," said Harry, who was trying the fudge.

I continued to open the rest of my presents. Mum got me some new books and a cute bracelet. Professor McGonagall had sent me a cozy Gryffindor sweater and a new book bag. Professor Dumbledore gave me a new golden quill that wrote in gold ink without having to dip it. Oliver's package contained a scrapbook full of our memories (saved in pictures) and a broomstick servicing kit. Hermione sent me a picture that Harry had taken of us two, along with a huge box of Chocolate Frogs (Harry had also received Chocolate Frogs from Hermione). Ron's present was the Wizarding World's Cookbook and a large bag of candy. Last but not least, Harry's parcel held a box of Chocolate Frogs (yes, double the Chocolate Frogs!) and an intricately-made ring that was simple but sweet.

Smiling, I was about to thank Harry and Ron for their gifts when I looked up and saw Harry holding something fluid and silvery gray.

"I've heard of those," Ron said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans he'd gotten from Hermione. "If that's what I think it is - they're really rare, and really valuable."

"What is it?" asked Harry, feeling the shining cloth.

"Wait a minute," I said, catching on to what Ron was saying. "It's an invisibility cloak, right? Try it on, Harry."

Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders and Ron gave a yell. "It is! Look down!"

Harry looked down at his feet, but they were gone. He dashed to the mirror, pulling the cloak over his head and his reflection vanished completely.

"There's a note!" I said when I noticed it. "A note fell out of it."

Harry pulled off the cloak and seized the letter as Ron grabbed the silver cloth.

"I'd give anything for one of these," he said, looking at the fabric longingly. "Anything."

I saw the look on Harry's face. "What's the matter, Harry?"

"Nothing," he replied.

Suddenly, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in. Harry grabbed the cloak and stuffed it quickly out of sight.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, look - Harry and Ivy have got Weasley sweaters, too!"

Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.

"Their's are better than ours, though," said Fred, holding up my white sweater. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded. "Come on, get it on. They're lovely and warm."

"I hate maroon," Ron moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head.

"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid - we know we're called Gred and Forge."

"What's all this noise?" Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized.

"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on. We're all wearing ours. Even Harry and Ivy got one."

"I - don't - want -" said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew.

"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," said George. "Christmas is a time for family." They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater.

Christmas dinner was even more amazing than any other I had ever had at Hogwarts. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce - and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table.

I pulled a wizard cracker to test it out. It didn't just bang; it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore wore a flowered bonnet, chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Silver sickles were found in each slice of pie; Percy almost broke his teeth when he discovered the coin on his fork. Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.

We left the table with our pockets full. I, myself, had things that included a pack of ever-floating balloons, a Make-Your-Own-Potion kit, and a funny picture of all of us next to the professors at the High Table, laughing and pulling weird faces.

Harry, the Weasleys, and I spent a happy afternoon having an exciting snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath,we returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, warming our bodies and resting. After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor tower because they'd stolen his prefect badge.

Reviewing the day's events in my head before falling asleep, I came to the conclusion that it was the best Christmas that I had ever experienced by far, and falling asleep in Seamus's bed that night was not a difficult task at all.


	9. Chapter 9: Mirror, Mirror

**CHAPTER 9**

 **Mirror, Mirror: Is A Quidditch Win In Our Favor?**

I woke up in the middle of the night suddenly. There was no reason as to why I had awaken; but the minute my eyes opened, I knew I would not be able to fall asleep again soon.

Ron was still in bed, snoring the night away like a baby. When I looked at Harry's bed, he was gone. Honestly, I wasn't worried, but just in case, I grabbed my book, Famous Witches and Wizards of this Century, and made my way down to the Gryffindor common room to wait for him. The fireplace crackled, and I dazedly stared into the flames as they leaped.

Yawning, I opened up my book to the page I had bookmarked. I lazily scanned the text, but after reading a few sentences, the words started mixing themselves around. It seemed that my dyslexia had decided to return once again, attempting to make my life a whole lot harder. Luckily, a few days ago, Mom had sent me the potion to temporarily obstruct my dyslexia. Without taking the potion, I wouldn't be able to read anything, and because I knew that going back to sleep was not an easy option, I got up, stretching my arms and dropping the book on the couch. I trudged towards the girls' dormitories, not caring if I made any noise, as all of the girls in my dorm had gone home for Christmas break.

I walked into the room sluggishly, my feet shuffling towards my trunk. As I opened it up and grabbed the vial filled with golden _Occulta Semideum_ , I noticed a piece of folded paper in my trunk. Curiosity shook away my lethargic stupor and I snatched up the paper.

The first thing I spotted was gold lettering. After a few moments of confusion, I managed to focus on the words instead of the fancy font and color.

 _Happy Holidays._

 _Winter frost and festive cheers._

 _Sunshine is the best._

Well, that was a weird message, but I would decipher its meaning another time. I placed the paper back into my trunk before taking a swig of the potion. The _Occulta Semideum_ felt like fizzy water in my mouth. Almost immediately, my vision blurred and I had to hold onto my trunk for a second, blinking, but the dizziness disappeared as soon as it had come.

I bounded down the stairs back into the common room, book in hand, only to suddenly stop when I saw Harry lying on the red couch, staring into the leaping flames in the fireplace.

I cleared my throat before whispering, "Harry."

He jumped, turning quickly to look at me.

"Why're you awake, Ivy?" he whispered.

I walked over to the sofa and took a seat next to him. "I could ask the same to you. But to answer your question," I held up my book so he could see it. "I was planning on catching up on some reading to see if there was anything about Nicholas Flamel."

Harry nodded. I looked at him only to see him staring at his invisibility cloak, which I hadn't noticed before.

"Harry," I said, "did you use it? Tonight just before I saw you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I went to the Restricted Section of the library to see if I could find anything. Filch nearly caught me, though, and I ended up running into a room where…" he trailed off, gulping.

"Yeah?" I encouraged.

Harry took in a breath. "I saw my parents."

I didn't know how to respond to what he had told me.

"Harry -," I paused to rearrange my words, "that's not possible. Your parents aren't alive."

"No, Ivy, you don't understand. There was a mirror and I saw my parents!" he said, grabbing my hand in desperation. He looked down. "I finally got to see them, but now that I have, I miss them more than ever."

A few seconds passed. Harry was surprised when I pulled him towards me and wrapped my arms tightly around his body. After a few moments, he relaxed and placed his arms around me, too.

"Thanks, Ivy."

I smiled. "Anytime."

* * *

"You should take me next time, too!" said Ron as he grabbed three pieces of french toast to his right. "It'd be great to meet your parents, Harry."

"I'll be able to see your whole family, too, tonight!" Harry replied.

Ron shook his head, stuffing a piece of french toast. "You can see my family any old time."

I rolled my eyes at Ron's appetite, but nonetheless, smiling. "Slow down, Ron. We've got a lot of time to eat."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, reaching out for a potato pancake. I grabbed an English muffin with jam smeared in the middle; promptly taking a bite of my muffin, I looked over to Harry. He was staring intensely at his empty plate.

"What's up, Harry?" I questioned. "What're you thinking so hard about?"

He looked up and gave me a soft smile. "Just excited to see my parents again tonight."

I smiled gently. "I'm glad that now, you've got something to look forward to."

* * *

That night, all of us shuffled underneath Harry's invisibility cloak. It was pretty cramped with the three of us attempting to huddle together so that we would be hidden completely.

"I'm freezing," said Ron. "Let's just forget and go back."

"No!" Harry objected. "I know it's here somewhere."

I didn't say anything, but I wanted to turn back, also, and get back to the cozy Gryffindor common room. We had been wandering the halls for nearly an hour, Harry not recognizing anything yet.

I poked Harry in the back. "What are you looking for, anyway? I might be able to help you find it."

"I'm looking for…" Harry said, trailing off. "Ahah! The suit of armor!"

He quickly ran towards the door next to it, pulling us along with him. When we made it in, he flung the cloak off and made his way to the mirror in the middle of the room. Ron and I were left near the door, and I urged Ron to go to Harry while I closed the door and picked up the cloak. After I did so, I saw that Harry and Ron were shoving each other in front of the mirror.

"Let me have another look -"

"You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time."

"You're only holding the Quidditch cup, what's interesting about that? I want to see my parents."

Hurriedly, I grabbed the both of them. "Be quiet! And stop pushing each other."

We heard a noise outside of the door, so I grabbed the cloak and was about to throw it over our bodies, but before I did, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, standing besides Mom. She smiled at me, and for a moment, I paused and looked at her bright smile that she hadn't had in a long time.

"Quick, Ivy!"

I snapped back into reality, throwing the cloak over us just as Mrs. Norris rounded the corner of the door. Holding our breaths, we stood as still as statues; it seemed like years before she turned and slowly slinked out the door.

"This isn't safe - she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on," said Ron, pulling us out of the room. Safe in the Gryffindor common room once again, we took seats on the couch and armchairs around the crackling fireplace to warm our shivering bodies. It was quiet for a few minutes; I stared into the jumping flames, my mind wandering.

Ron cleared his throat. "I'm sorry that I argued with you, Harry. I know how much you wanted to see your parents."  
"No worries; you were right. I did get to see them the night before," Harry said before turning to me. "Ivy, sorry, we were so busy arguing that you didn't have a chance to look in the mirror."  
"That's okay!" I exclaimed hurriedly, not wanting them to put the blame on themselves. I paused, looked down and smiled, thinking of my mother's bright face. "I got to see my mom's smiling face right before we had to put on the invisibility cloak. She was standing next to me."

And for the rest of the night, the memory of Mom's smile was constant in the back of my mind. When I woke up in Seamus' bed the next morning, the air was a sharp contrast on my face to the warmth of the heating pads underneath the sheets. I crawled out from beneath the covers a few minutes later, and before setting off to my own dormitory, I shook Harry and Ron awake to let them know that I would meet them downstairs in the common room before we went off to the Great Hall for breakfast.

I only had to wait another half-hour before the boys shuffled down into the common room. It was almost silent as we made our way to the Great Hall, Ron and I attempting to talk to Harry as he stayed silent.  
"Come on, Harry," I said, nudging him in the shoulder with my own once we were seated at the Gryffindor table. "Cheer up. Eat something."

Ron nodded, continuing as I grabbed a chocolate chip muffin. "Want to play chess, Harry?"

"No."

I shared a look of worry with Ron. "Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?"

"No… you go…"

A sigh of frustration escaped my lips, and I looked at him. "I know what you're thinking about, Harry. You want to go back to that mirror."

"Don't, Harry," Ron agreed, nodding.

"Why not?"

Ron looked uneasy, but continued on. "I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it - and anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?"

"You sound like Hermione," Harry said.

"Harry, please, don't go," I pleaded. "You don't know if you'll get lucky again. You might get caught this time."

Harry stayed silent.

"We can't make you not go," I said, "but we just don't want to see you get in trouble over this, Harry."

But Ron and I could see that Harry had already made up his mind to go and that there was no way we would be able to convince him otherwise.

That night, when I heard Harry sneak out of the room and down the stairs, I pretended to continue sleeping and just hoped that overnight, he would somehow realize that that he couldn't keep acting impulsively like that.

And oddly enough, that did happen. Harry told us about his meeting with Dumbledore and their conversation. The invisibility cloak stayed folded at the bottom of his trunk for the rest of the Christmas holidays, thanks to Dumbledore's advice. But around that time, too, Harry started having these nightmares about his parents, a green light, and a high voice that cackled with laughter. Ron and I worried, but there was nothing that we could do about these horrible dreams, except support Harry.

Hermione came back the day before term started, and she was not happy about how Harry had been out of bed three nights in a row and how we hadn't made any progress on our search about Nicolas Flamel. Once the term started, though, the hunt was on again for any mention of this mysterious person. We skimmed books every chance we could, including the small ten-minute breaks in between classes. Harry and I had less time than Ron and Hermione, though, because Quidditch practice had started again and Oliver was working us even harder than before. The endless rain had no effect on Oliver; he kept right on pushing us so that we could win. The Weasley's complained that Oliver was becoming a fanatic, but both Harry and I agreed with him. If we won our next match against Hufflepuff, we could overtake Slytherin in the house championship for the first time in seven years.

During one of our particularly wet and muddy practice sessions, though, Oliver revealed some bad news to the team. The Weasleys kept dive-bombing each other and pretended to fall off their brooms; as a result, Oliver had gotten very angry with them.

"Will you stop messing around!" he yelled. "That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!"

George actually fell off of his broom when Oliver said this.

"Snape's refereeing?" he spluttered through a mouthful of mud. "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin."

The rest of the team landed next to George, too, and Harry and I followed their lead.

"It's not my fault," said Oliver. "We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us."

I bit my lip, knowing why Harry suddenly had a sullen face. At the end of practice, Harry and I hurriedly changed, unlike our other teammates who, like usual, hung around to talk to each other after practice. We made our way straight to the Gryffindor common room, wasting no time. When we got in, we found Ron and Hermione playing chess.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron when Harry and I sat down next to him. "I need to concen-"

He noticed our worried faces. "What's the matter with you two? You look terrible."

I looked around and gestured for them to lean in so that we wouldn't be overheard by our peers in the common room. Harry explained our dilemma about Snape's sudden desire to be a Quidditch referee.

"We don't know what he'll do," I said uneasily. "What's he planning?"

"Don't play," suggested Hermione.

"Say you're ill," said Ron.

"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.

"Really break your leg," said Ron. I smacked Ron in the shoulder.

"Honestly, Ron," I scolded. "That's not going to help. What we need to do now is -"

I was abruptly cut off by the sound of someone toppling into the common room. It was Neville. His legs seemed to have been stuck together by the Leg-Locker Curse. I felt sympathetic as I thought of his struggle up the tower. Neville groaned and everyone in the common room laughed, with the exception of Hermione and I. Quickly grabbing my wand, I performed the countercurse before Neville embarrassed himself further.

His legs sprang apart and he shakily got up. Hermione rushed over to Neville, grabbing his arm and leading him over to sit with us.

"What happened?" she asked him.

Neville sighed, his voice trembling as he spoke. "Malfoy."

That was the only word needed for me to become instantly irritated.

"I met him outside the library," he continued. "He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. "Report him!"

Neville shook his head abruptly.

"I don't want more trouble," he mumbled, looking down at his hands in his lap.

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor; Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out.

I put my arm around him in an attempt to console him. "Neville, don't think that way. You're a much better person than Malfoy. He's only a bully."

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a Chocolate Frog, handing it to Neville, who looked like he was going to cry.

"Ivy is right. You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."

Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog. "Thanks, guys… I think I'll go to bed… D'you want the card? You collect them, don't you?"

Harry held the card in his hand as Neville walked up the stairs.

"Dumbledore again," he said. "He was the first one I ever -"

He gasped, staring at the back of the card. Then he looked up at Ron and Hermione.

"I've found him!" he whispered quickly. "I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before. I read it on the train coming here - listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel'!"

At these words, Hermione jumped to her feet. I swear, I had never seen that girl more excited than at that moment.

"Stay there!" she said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

Harry, Ron, and I barely had time to exchange looks of confusion before Hermione came speeding down the stairs once again, clutching a gigantic old book.

"I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

"Light?" said Ron incredulously, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself. At last she found what she was looking for. "I knew it! I knew it!"

"Are we allowed to speak yet?" said Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him.

"Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone!"

"Oh!" I shouted loudly as I jumped out of my seat. A few people stared at me as I realized how loud my shout had been.

"Sorry," I whispered, sitting down and looking at my friend.

"I'm sorry. What?" Harry asked.

"I'm with Harry," Ron agreed. "What is that?"

"Honestly, you guys. How could you not know about the Sorcerer's Stone?" I said, rolling my eyes.

Ron huffed. "Not everyone has read as much as you two."

"Look - read that, there," said Hermione, shoving the book towards the two boys and pointing to a passage. I could see the text upside down, and as Harry and Ron read, I whispered the words out loud in excitement.

"The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. There have been many reports of the Sorcerer's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight)."

"See?" said Hermione. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Sorcerer's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it. That's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"

"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" said Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it."

"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry," said Ron. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

The Sorcerer's Stone was on our minds at all times. During Defense Against the Dark Arts, our assignment was to copy the different ways of treating werewolf bites. While Hermione and I worked diligently on the task at hand, Harry and Ron, who sat at the table to our left, whispered to each other. A few seconds later, our attention was diverted from the notes when Hermione was poked on the arm by Harry.

"I almost forgot about Snape and the Quidditch match," he said. "I'm going to play. If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them… it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win."

"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field," said Hermione.

As the match drew nearer, however, Harry became more and more uneasy, something that he told me during our next practice. He wasn't the only one, though. We all were nervous. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the house championship was wonderful, but no one had done it for seven years. Would we even be given the chance to, with such a biased referee?

The fateful day arrived in the blink of an eye, and as Hermione and Ron said good luck to us, Harry and I knew that they were wondering if they would ever see Harry alive again after the match. If I was feeling this anxious, Harry must have been feeling even worse than I did. Oliver's pep talk did calm me down a little. On the other hand, Harry woodenly stared at the ground for the duration of Oliver's long speech. Right before we were getting ready to go out, Oliver had a private chat with Harry. Fred and George pulled me with them to look out the door.

"The whole school's out there!" exclaimed Fred, peering out of the door. "Even - blimey - Dumbledore's come to watch!"

"Dumbledore?" Harry asked, dashing towards us and peeping out. He looked at me and grinned in relief.

A minute later, we found ourselves marching onto the field, Hufflepuff doing the same from the other entrance. Oliver and the Hufflepuff captain shook each other's hands, nodding once before turning back to their own teams to get in position. Snape blew the whistle and we shot off up into the air. The only thing I could focus on was the Quaffle that Alicia had grabbed the moment it had been thrown into the air. She zoomed forward on her broom towards the goal, but because the Hufflepuff chasers were closing in on her, she tossed the Quaffle over to me, which I snatched out of the air in a snap and continued to race towards the goal.

In the background, I could faintly hear Lee Jordan commentating. The whistle blew loudly, the shrill noise ringing throughout the stadium. Snape had awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George had hit a Bludger at him. We continued to play, but a few minutes later, Hufflepuff had been awarded yet another penalty for no reason. I huffed in frustration, but there was nothing that I could do. And then the Quaffle was in the arms of Angelina and I snapped back into action, speeding towards an open area and keeping an eye out for the infamous Bludgers.

All of a sudden, there were gasps and cheers coming from the crowd. Everybody stopped to stare as Harry pulled up sharply from a fantastic dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand. The stands erupted. I had never grinned so largely. He had caught the Snitch so quickly that it must've been a record.

I flew down alongside the rest of my team, crowding around Harry. Gryffindors were spilling onto the field, shouting in glee. After wiggling through the crowd, I made my way next to Harry.  
"You were great, Harry!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms around him in a tight hug. "It had barely been five minutes!"

He smiled broadly, and before we knew it, the rest of the team had joined us and we were caught in the middle of a huge celebration, Gryffindors all around. I was relieved and grateful that nothing bad had happened. Everything had worked out perfectly, even better than I could have hoped for.

With a heart full of happiness, I let go of my worries and enjoyed our triumph amidst the company of my second family.


End file.
